Phantom Fragments
by Represent
Summary: A collection of one-shots and drabbles. / Newest / Danny's having trouble dealing with the aftermath of Freakshow's control.
1. Wes

**Misconstrue**

_1\. to misunderstand the meaning of; take in a wrong sense; misinterpret._

x

Sam's eyes narrowed as she watched Paulina's chest and butt bounce up and down in her cheerleader outfit, pom poms raised up in the air.

"Let's go, let's go!" Paulina and Star cheered together, wiggling their hips back and forth.

She felt the rest of the crowd around her roar automatically as the Casper High Raven's took to the field, sneakers squelching and basketballs booming. Danny was clapping to her right, Tucker hooting to her left. Their team was made up of mostly A-listers, but there were also a few tall gangly nobodies. Dash was grinning crookedly as he dribbled around his ankles, circling the court as they called his number before he lined up with the rest of the team.

Basketball.

Sam felt a soft smile grace her face as she joined in the chanting. She had been the one to drag both Danny and Tucker to this game. Blood, sweat, tears. If there was one game Sam loved more than Doomed it was Basketball. She herself had played throughout much of middle school. Where else did she get the ghost fighting stamina and killer accuracy?

Besides, the three of them had been so busy fighting ghosts lately they had almost forgotten about being in their senior year of High School. They hadn't attended homecoming and had hardly talked about Prom. Danny seemed to drift from class to class, barely skating by and not at all interested in school spirit or culture.

It had been something Jazz had cornered Sam about.

_"All of you - you only are in High School once. You need to at least try and go to school events. De-stress, have fun."_

Danny was grinning next to her, seemingly de-stressed and having fun. His dark hair was hidden for the most part underneath his Raven's hat. Maybe Jazz was right. He actually looked the part of a happy-go-lucky high schooler. Tucker suddenly leaned around Sam to look down at the field to the right. He pointed his giant foam finger down and gave a loud boo as the opposing team walked around the corner and onto the field.

The Elmerton High Eagles. Casper High's biggest rivals. And unfortunately for them, they were playing away. A chorus of boo's rose up like a tidal wave as they took their place, backs to the crowd, ready for their name to be called by the announcer.

Number two paused and turned, scanning the crowd for a long moment. Sam felt a wave of confusion pass through her. He was looking for someone, she realized. Maybe his parents? His friends? Although there were hardly any of Elmerton students at this game. However, his eyes locked onto hers - a brilliant green- and then flicked to her left, to Danny.

Sam watched as Danny seemed to notice the attention he was getting. The two of them stared at each other, moment suspended. Sam felt her breathing hitch, the background noise of the game fading as she watched them. The look the redhead was giving him was intense. Knowing. Meaningful. Sam frowned. Just when she was about to ask Danny who that was the announcer interrupted.

"Number two, Westley Weston." The voice boomed. Well, that answered that question.

The tall redheaded boy spun away from the stands at that moment and took to the field with a series of graceful gazelle leaps.

Tucker snorted, oblivious to the moment that had just passed.

"Who the heck names their kid Westley Weston? Am I right? What a stupid name." He joked, nudging Danny in the rib.

Sam tumbled his name around in her head. Westley Weston. She had never heard of him before. And with a name like that Sam was certain she would have remembered. Wait. Westley. Wes. Sam's eyes widened, remembering that ring Danny had made her hold onto briefly back when he had been into Valerie. _"Who the heck is Wes?"_ Looks like she finally got her answer. But how did Danny know Westley? They didn't even go to the same school. The only time Danny would have been in the same room as him would have been for sporting events and Danny didn't play any sports. He had enough trouble as it was keeping up with ghost attacks and school. It wasn't like Danny even had a reason to drive to Elmerton. Except… when he had been doing that team project with Valerie after Valerie had moved to Elmerton.

Which had been around the same time that he had asked her to keep the ring. Could it be…?

Sam glanced over to Danny, studying him strangely for a moment. His blue eyes glanced over at her, catching her gaze.

"What?" He asked her, nonplussed.

"Nothing." Sam shook her head slightly, forcing her attention back to the game where Westley Weston was wiping up Dash, spinning dizzying circles around him like he was made of water.

As the game was winding to a close Sam had all but forgotten the weird interaction from earlier. Weston was obviously Elmerton's star player. Alone he had carried the team, but he hadn't been enough to defeat Casper High. Barely leading with a final score of 102 to 89 they had won. Paulina was bouncing up and down on her heels in front of the stands, rubbing pom poms together. Her face was lit up in an extremely rare moment of genuine emotion. Sam wrinkled her nose for a minute, before she turned to Danny and Tucker.

"We should probably try and-" She started, blinking at the empty seat next to her.

"Where's Danny?" She asked Tucker who was standing up and hooting, waving his foam finger in the air. Behind him a group of girls were scowling as Tucker blocked their view. Sam rolled her eyes and grabbed Tucker by the arm, hauling him back onto his chair.

"What?" Tucker asked, looking over to see the vacant spot where Danny had been merely minutes previously. "Huh. No clue."

Sam frowned and scanned the crowd, knowing it was more than likely for naught. If Danny wanted to disappear he would do so without fail. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck start to stand up, her muscles tensing in preparation for an impending ghost attack. That seemed to be the only reason why Danny would suddenly take off. Although - he should have warned them.

Sam's eyes darted from head to head as the crowd started to file out of the gym. Dash's, Paulina and Star, Mikey… Westley. Sam paused, watching the athlete for a moment. Westley barely looked sweaty from the game. He was balancing the basketball on one hip. His face was dark, and he was staring intently in one direction. The crowd was moving around him, parting, as he stood strangely still in the middle of the throng. Sam followed his gaze, finding a dark splash of hair. Danny. He was fighting his way through the crowd. As he got closer to the other Westley turned and took off around the corner hallway, moving in the opposite direction of the exit. Sam watched as Danny glided through the crowd and followed him, disappearing behind the doors.

What the….

"Oh my god." Sam said, loudly, "Oh my _god."_

"What?" Tucker asked, tensed and ready to spring into action at any moment, hand on his backpack where the thermos was hidden.

"Danny." Sam explained, "And that boy. How did we not see this?"

"Huh? See what?" Tucker blinked, "Care to fill me in?"

"Wes. Remember?" She turned to Tucker, "Remember that name on the ring Danny was going to give to Valerie?"

Tucker paused, silent, before nodding slowly.

"Westley Weston." Sam continued, waving her hand in front of her to get Tucker to connect the dots.

"Stupid name." Tucker snickered before he frowned, "What about him?"

"God Tucker, do I have to spell it out for you? He was giving Danny weird looks all game. I just saw Danny follow him out of the gym, _together."_ Sam gave Tucker a very pointed look.

"You think they're…? No way. We would have known if Danny was…. was gay."

x

Danny snaked his way through the slow-moving herd of students, jostling and elbowing to break free after getting out of the gym. Instead of following the line to the right and out the doors into the open courtyard he hooked a left. The sound of excited chattering and school chanting faded as he turned down the deserted hallway.

"Hey!" He called out to the Elmerton player's back. Westley, Danny remembered. He had been giving him weird looks all game. The kid paused, spinning with a squelch of his basketball trainers to look down at Danny. Danny realized dimly this kid was a good three inches taller than him.

"Westley, right?" Danny attempted to initiate conversation. What he really wanted to ask was _"What the hell is your problem? Why are you giving me those creepy stares all night?"_. "I'm-"

"Daniel Fenton." The kid finished, tone wary.

Danny blinked, feeling suddenly defensive.

"Yeah-" Danny mumbled, "How did you-?"

"I know all about you."

"Geeze, I'm flattered." Danny drawled wittily, "But, you know, I'm not really into that sort of thing."

The kid's sharp green eyes narrowed. Danny didn't like how he was looking at him. His heart was racing at the implications of the way the redhead was acting. Almost like he… knew about him being Danny Phantom. That was impossible. No, not impossible, but improbable. Especially since Danny was certain he had never met this kid before in his life. He did look kinda familiar though. Danny wracked through his head trying to remember where he had seen him before.

"You don't remember me?" He asked Danny, "Figures."

"Considering we've never met?" Danny quipped.

"Oh we met. Remember when you interrupted the basketball game last month? Ghost attack? Everyone had to evacuate and the game was post-poned?"

Danny frowned. He did remember. But he had interrupted that game as Danny Phantom, not Fenton.

"Dude, you're crazy." Danny murmured, "This is my first basketball game I've even gone to this year. Bad grades and all. My parents kinda grounded me."

"There was college scouts at that game." Wes continued, eyes glinting, "I was on track for a full ride scholarship to Duke. You ruined that for me. I can't afford college, even working a full time job. All that work, all that training, _wasted._"

Westley was taking slow deliberate steps towards him, dropping the basketball onto the ground where it bounced with several foreboding booms before resting a few feet away. Danny found himself backed up against the cold locker doors, craning his head to look up at Westley's freckled face that was leering over him. Strong muscle pinned him against the wall. Danny struggled to keep his face aloof. If you just compared the outward appearance of Westley and Danny it wasn't even a fair fight. The taller of the two had an athletic grace, lean muscle, and stifling outward confidence.

"I may not have any proof…" Westley was breathing, "…yet."

"Man, you need a shower." Danny shrunk back against the locker door, feeling almost naked under this kid's scrutinizing gaze.

"But I'm going to find some." Wes ignored Danny's remark.

"I have no idea what you're going on about." Danny rolled his eyes, "Look, if I've done something to offend-"

"Consider this a warning, _Invisobill."_ Westley's eyes bore down into Danny's, pinning him like a collector's butterfly. The kid leaned down over him, placing his hands on either side of Danny's head.

Danny spent a good half second not breathing, feeling like someone had ripped a rug out from underneath him. He spent another half second in blind panic, quashing the urge to lash out and hit the kid upside the head hard enough to knock that train of thought right out of it for good. The next half second was spent pondering just how quickly he could phase through this locker. Then he got ahold of himself.

He ripped out a semi-forced laugh.

"What?" He managed, trying to cover up the momentary terror with absolute shock, "You've got to be kidding me. You think _I'm_ the ghost kid?"

"I don't think, I know."

Danny snorted.

"I can barely walk in a straight line without tripping, much less fly. Besides - doesn't that make me y'know dead? Hate to rip a hole in your conspiracy theory, but I'm _pretty_ positive I'm alive."

"Or half alive."

Danny felt like someone had walked over his grave. This kid knew _way_ too much. Clearly nothing Danny could say or do would disprove his theory. Danny felt his face slip, his stance change. The transition was minute. From awkward teen to confident superhero. But suddenly Danny was no longer as helpless against the locker like he was before. He reached up and curled his cold iron grip around the kid's wrists, noting with satisfaction the way Westley's face flinched at the contact. A brief glint of fear passed through those green eyes.

Danny tilted his head up until their faces were mere inches apart, eyes flashing to match the other's with dangerous neon green.

"If I _was_ the ghost kid." Danny said slowly, "Just to play along here, what makes you think that I wouldn't just take you out right now?"

Westley's determination seemed to waver as a moment of uncertainty flickered across his face. His mouth opened, surprised. Clearly he hadn't thought this blackmail thing completely through. Or he had misjudged Danny Fenton's character. Perhaps a bit of both.

"You wouldn't." He stammered.

Danny raised an eyebrow, tilting his head comically.

"Why not?" He asked, "After all, I'm just an evil destruction-seeking ghost."

"You wouldn't risk blowing your cover."

"Exactly." Danny smiled darkly.

Westley shook his head, leaning closer, eyes narrowing, almost hooded.

"I know all about you. And ghosts. I have weapons, documentation, and soon enough I'll have the proof I need to expose you and turn you in. The reward money will be more than enough to pay for college and get my parents out of their shithole house in Elmerton. I don't know what your motives are - pretending to be a high school student, but I'm not going to let you-"

"…Danny?"

Both Westley and Danny froze, still staring intently into the other's eyes. Danny was first to break the eye contact, looking over and seeing Sam standing uncertainly in the middle of the empty hallway. Danny let go of his hold on the other's wrists, letting his arms fall against the wall instead.

Wes pushed off of the lockers and retreated from Danny's personal space. The tension vibrating the air seemed to fizzle out as soon as they both realized there was a witness.

Danny took in a breath he didn't know he had been holding, forcing himself to calm down. His eyes faded back to their usual blue as he pushed himself off of the locker and took a few steps away from the athlete towards Sam.

"Danny, who's this?" Sam asked, hand on her hip, no-nonsense tone of voice in full effect.

"Wes." Westley answered suavely, giving her a soft grin. Danny was temporarily thrown by the sudden warm hospitality the other was offering to Sam as he politely shook her hand. It was like this was a totally different person than who had just had him pinned dangerously against the lockers.

"Sam." She returned the smile.

"Let's go." Danny muttered, grabbing her hand and tugging her gently away from the other.

"Okay." Sam said lowly as she allowed herself to get spun and together they started towards the exit, "Danny, we really need to talk."

"I know." Danny was barely listening to her as they made their way down the empty hallway, not realizing that Sam was entirely misinterpreting the situation. Not realizing that Wes's heavy knowing gazes and the compromising position of him pinned against the locker could be misconstrued. He paused, however, remembering something.

"Oh- and _Wes_." Danny spun, looking back at the other, "It's not Invisobill. Get your facts straight. It's _Phantom._"

Wes was still staring at them. Danny felt Sam shiver next to him at the intensity in his gaze.

"Noted." He replied.

x

"Danny what was that-" Sam was saying as he lead them out of the big double doors and out onto the lawn. Students were running amuck outside, still high off of the win. Sam glanced up at him, seeing his dazed face. Was he even paying attention?

"Danny." Sam repeated, quickening her step to keep up with him,_ "Danny."_ She inflected, ripping her arm out of his grip.

"What?" He seemed to snap out of it. His face was tinged red. From embarrassment? Sam had to say, she had almost blushed too when she had happened upon them both in the hallway pressed up against each other. It had just caught her by surprise seeing him like that. Not that it mattered to her what Danny's preferences were. Really. Okay, maybe it did, but only because Sam maybe sorta kinda had a crush on him and right now she felt like her heart was slowly being broken at the idea that they would never work.

But this wasn't about her. It was about Danny. It was about letting him know that both Tucker and her were supportive, no matter what. Besides, Wes seemed like a nice enough person from that brief interaction she had had with him. The way he had been looking at Danny… it was clear he was obsessed with him.

Really, not that much of this had made sense right away, but Sam was slowly starting to put together the pieces. Had the whole Valerie fling been an entire coverup? A way for Danny to go to Elmerton without getting questioned? Did Valerie know and she was protecting him all along?

Sam felt floored, suddenly reevaluating Danny and Valerie's relationship. Valerie certainly didn't know about him being half-ghost, but perhaps Danny had entrusted her with a secret that he hadn't even told his best friends? Sam tried not to let herself feel hurt over the idea of it.

"We need to talk." She repeated.

"Where's Tucker?" He asked. His face looked panicked, like he had been caught. Which, he had. Sam felt her heart go out to him. She had to let him know it didn't matter to her.

"He's already heading home. He has family dinner in an hour." Truthfully she had told him to go home so that she alone could talk to Danny about this. She didn't want Danny to feel ganged up on or get defensive.

Danny frowned, troubled at that before he shrugged and nodded, moving quickly down the familiar back path around the school to their usual hiding spot. Sam followed silently, picking her way through the bushes and weeds until they huddled, crouched underneath a full pine at the far outer edge of the school grounds.

x

Danny leaned against the chain link fence, listening intently for a long moment before he was sure that they were alone.

Danny felt his heart pounding in his chest, momentarily uprooted at the idea that there was another person that knew about his secret identity. How long had Westley Weston knew? Had he been following him? Watching him?

"That kid Wes-" He started, turning to Sam, tone serious, "He-"

Sam interrupted him, grabbing his hand suddenly. Danny paused, shocked at the feel of it and confused by the strange look she was giving him. It was a look of compassionate understanding. And while Danny wasn't opposed to it, he had no clue what he had done to deserve it.

"I know. It's okay, Danny." She told him, squeezing his hand.

Danny blinked at her, surprised. She knew? Why wasn't she panicking like him, then?

"What?" He asked breathlessly, "How is it okay?"

"Tucker and I, we don't care."

Danny looked completely lost for a moment.

"How can you guys not care? Wait- how does Tucker even know about this?"

"We both kinda figured it out."

Danny was silent for a long moment, bewildered, staring at Sam, scanning her face. Sam assumed he was looking for some hint of a lie, or some kind of judgement. In reality Danny was trying to figure out why she was so gung-ho about the imminent reveal of his alter ego.

"I mean-" Sam continued, "At first with the ring I thought I was just misreading it or something, but then I saw the way he was looking at you at the game and it was just so obvious. I'm sorry we didn't see it before. Were you ever going to tell us? Some friends we-"

What the hell? Sam mystified him on a good day, but Danny was pretty sure that she was making absolutely no sense at all.

"Hold on." Danny interrupted her mid-lecture, waving a hand, "What are you _talking_ about?"

Sam paused, frowning.

"What are _you_ talking about?" She ventured cautiously.

"I'm talking about Wes." Danny said indignantly, frustration evident on his face.

"So am I!"

"No you're not. What ring are you going on about?"

"The one you were going to give Valerie." Sam intoned seriously, "Look, Danny. You don't have to pretend."

Danny stared at her.

"The class ring?" He tried to follow, tried to see if there were any breadcrumbs that would lead him back to what the hell she was talking about. Nope. He couldn't find any.

"Yeah. The one that you got engraved."

"I didn't get it engraved." Danny gritted, "My dad did- He-…"

Danny trailed off. Oh shit. _Oh shit._ His dad had engraved Sam's own name in it. He had given it to her to hold. She had seen it. He was so stupid! Was this what this was all about? Danny felt his face pale several notches as he leaned heavier into the chain link fence.

Sam shook her head back and forth, round violet eyes wide.

"No- no- no!" She said, waving her hands and grabbing Danny by the shoulders, "It's okay. Don't freak out. I don't care."

She didn't care? She wasn't weirded out?

"That's… good?" Danny guessed, "But what does this all have to do with Wes?"

Sam stared at him like he was stupid.

"The ring, Danny!" She punctuated, staring at him for a few seconds. Danny knew this was the part where he connected the dots, but really, he was lost without a paddle.

"You, and Wes." She continued, speaking soothingly, almost like his mother did whenever she wanted to confront him about something she knew was going to piss him off. Danny watched her warily.

"You can just admit it, you know, if you want to that is. Only if you want to. Whenever you're ready. Tucker and I don't think any different of you. I just.. I didn't really expect… I just wanted you to know.. you know… that-"

Danny suddenly realized exactly what she was trying to say like someone had dumped ice cold Gatorade over his head. He felt the horror flash across his face.

"Wait, wait wait…Sam." He said slowly, shaking his head, "Sam… Sam… I'm not _gay._"

"…Of course you aren't, but you know, if you _are_ we'll be here for you.." She continued, nodding. Danny looked up at the top of the pine tree in exasperation. "He seems nice and like he really likes you and I'm so happy for you guys I really am…"

Danny reached over to her and plucked her lips with his fingers to stop them from moving any further, blush igniting his face at the thought of what she was implying. She stopped, gazing up at him, eyes wide.

"Shhh.. stop." He intoned, feeling giddy laughter bubbling up in him at the idea of her thinking he was with that kid. Sam shifted uncomfortably. Danny realized, not for the first time, that he really did have the most amazing group of best friends.

"Sam." He said seriously, letting go of her lips and cupping her cheeks with both of his hands as he drew her closer to himself. He looked her directly in the eye. "I'm not gay."

At least, he was pretty sure he wasn't. All his sexual fantasies had involved scantily clad Paulina, Valerie, and Sam's.

Sam frowned up at him, confusion in those big doe eyes of hers.

"But if I was gay, this would have been the sweetest most supportive speech you've ever given." He finished, leaning forward to give her a peck on the nose.

"Then why-?" Sam trailed off, "You two were almost kissing…In the hallway…"

"We weren't kissing!" Danny sputtered, "We were _threatening_ each other."

Danny let go of her, suddenly serious, remembering Westley. "Westley Weston knows I'm Phantom."

Sam's eyes widened even further, if possible, her face paling.

"Oh my god. Holy shi- what? HOW? What do we do?"

That was more of the response Danny had been anticipating.

"I don't know how he knows, but he's set on outing me. And I don't know what to do, but I intend to figure it out." Danny brought Sam up to speed on their whole conversation, about how the kid was trying to find proof of Danny's ghostly properties.

Sam handled this information with more grace, finding it much easier to accept and take action on this rather than confront Danny about his sexual preference.

"Come on." Danny grabbed her hand, leading her out of their spot.

"We should go to Tucker's." Sam told him, picking her way through the vines and branches, "We should probably tell him you're not gay."

Danny laughed over his shoulder.

"Oh we'll tell him. But first, let's stop at my place. I need to grab something."

x

Sam and Danny wound around the street, FentonWorks looming in front of them. They had walked, Danny being too paranoid about being tracked or followed to use any ghost powers.

"You know-" Sam was saying, enjoying the feeling of Danny walking close next to her, "You look pretty hot when you're threatening someone."

Danny looked over at her in shock, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

"Sam!" He admonished, embarrassed.

"What?" Sam laughed, pushing her scooter with one hand, "You're both good lookin' men. The hallway was practically steamy."

"You think I'm good looking?" Danny grinned. Of course.

Sam rolled her eyes.

"Whatever." She mumbled.

"Hang on one second." Danny left Sam at the front of his house, bounding up the steps and through the front door. Sam heard a loud "Danny-boy!" from Jack before the door swung shut.

She sighed, leaning heavily onto her scooter. She had to say this whole thing was pretty hilarious looking back at it. However, this new development of this Wes person was troubling. Hopefully Tucker and her could research more about him and try to game plan how to counteract before it was too late.

Her phone vibrated and she fished it out, looking down at the text.

_How'd it go? - Tucker_

Sam had almost forgotten that Tucker was still in the dark about everything. She texted him back before slinging her phone into her bag.

_Fine. We're coming over in ten. - Sam_

The door slammed and Sam looked up seeing Danny coming back down the steps and rejoining her on the sidewalk.

"I thought you had to grab something?" She prompted, seeing as he looked the same.

"I did." Danny grabbed Sam's backpack for her so she had a free hand to lead her scooter. He fished around in his pocket before tossing something small and glittery up in the air at her.

"Catch."

Sam did. She twirled it around in her hand. The class ring.

"See?" She said, showing Danny, "It says 'Wes.'"

Danny peered into the inside of the ring and then let out a bark of laughter.

"Well, shit." He said, "So it does."

Sam frowned, confused. Danny's eyes twinkled with mirth as he spun the ring slowly around in her hand.

"…Oh." She said, "I feel really dumb right now."

x

Sam reached over and rang the doorbell on Tucker's front landing. Together the two of them waited for Tucker or his parents to answer. Danny suddenly turned to Sam and gave her wink just as Tucker bounded down the steps and ripped the door open.

Sam only had to wonder for about two seconds what that wink had been all about before the two of them stepped inside.

"Danny. Sam." Tucker greeted, shifting uncomfortably, "So.. how'd everything go..? You know…?"

Danny gave Tucker an alarmingly large smile before enveloping the other teen in an too tight hug. Sam's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as Danny's hands roamed up and down Tucker's body.

"Tuck- You have no idea how great it is to get this off of my chest." Danny told him, pulling back to look at him in the face. Danny's expression was raw and honest, but Sam knew he was faking. She had to bite her tongue not to laugh at how close Danny's face was to Tucker's, and how Tucker was trying - unsuccessfully - to edge out of his grasp. Tucker was trying heroically to not look creeped out by Danny's strange behavior.

"That's- uh- great…" Tucker was stammering, face beet red. Danny kept his face at the perfect distance. Just too close for comfort, his large blue eyes brimming with fake tears.

"And that you two are okay with it." Danny continued, "I don't know why I didn't tell you guys sooner."

"Well, you know we got your back. No matter what. Even if you.. like guys…" Tucker seemed to regain some composure as Danny finally let go of him.

"Great. Now I can suggest what I really want for movie night." Danny hummed, moving with a strange effeminate grace as he walked deeper into Tucker's house, "Like Mean Girls, Magic Mike, and of course Brokeback Mountain."

Sam wondered just how long he was going to keep this act up, thinking it a bit cruel to Tucker.

Tucker frowned, seeming to sense that Sam and Danny were in on a joke that he wasn't party to. The two of them followed Danny into the media room.

"And you just _have_ to meet my super amazing boyfriend." Danny was still talking, waving his hand a little for emphasis, "Once you get past the whole 'I know you're Phantom and I want to expose you and turn you in for money' he's really a keeper."

Sam couldn't help it, she felt the laugh burst out of her. The absurdity of seeing Danny like this was too much. She wondered how she had even pegged Danny as gay in the first place.

Tucker stared at them blankly.

"What?" He managed out, turning to Sam, "What is going on?" He asked weakly.

"Danny's not gay." Sam managed out, "I might have mixed up some facts."

Tucker seemed to deflate, tension flowing out of him. He put a hand on his heart.

"Oh god - Dude, you really had me there for a moment. Not that it would have been bad- you know - I just don't know if I could watch Magic Mike with you. Shit-"

Danny threw his head back and laughed - _laughed_ \- at Tucker, who was still stammering. Sam and him laughed for a good few minutes. Even Tucker joined in, before they all gasped for air and sobered.

"But really, guys." Danny wiped his eye with his sleeve, "We have an actual problem to address."

Sam nodded, turning to Tucker.

"What do we know about one Westley Weston?"


	2. Anniversary

**Anniversary**

_Hinted Phantom Rocker_

x

It had been quiet this whole week. Too quiet.

Danny and Sam were convinced that the ghosts were up to something. Tucker probably thought that as well, but was feigning ignorance for the sake of trying to quell Danny's nerves.

The two of them were sitting at the desk, watching, as Danny paced back and forth in the basement. He was eyeing the open Portal accusingly.

"Let's go do something fun for a change." Tucker was attempting to coax his best friend out of the house, "Take advantage of the fact that we have some free time."

Sam frowned thoughtfully. Despite being concerned at the sudden lack of ghosts she couldn't help but agree with Tucker. It did no good to sit around and worry.

"There's that new horror movie out." She suggested. Tucker shuddered, never a fan of gore.

"Or we could go play video games and eat junk food at my place."

"Why not my place?" Sam cut, considering that was their usual destination, courtesy of her enormous media room.

"'Cause I hooked up one of those 3-D virtual reality goggles to Doomed. It feels like you're actually in the game. I've been working on it slowly for a month now, but never had the time to finish it. At least, until this week. We should go try it out."

"What do you say, Danny?"

But Danny wasn't listening to them. He was muttering to himself as he paced darkly. As if he was the Portal's eternal gatekeeper, doomed to wait at the entrance for all eternity.

"Dude," Tucker muttered, "You're being obsessive. Chill out."

"I'm not obsessing." Danny denied, as always, hyper-sensitive to that word. The implied accusation that he was being irrational or exhibiting some less-than-human tendencies was enough to snap him out of his reverie.

"Tucker has a point, Danny." Sam sided with the tech-buff, "Even if the ghosts were planning world domination, there's nothing you can really do besides go into the Zone…" She trailed off, realizing exactly what she was saying and how Danny's eyes were suddenly gleaming.

"No, no, no…" Tucker shook his head and elbowed Sam sharply, "We're going to go over to my place instead to play Doomed and eat pizza until we barf. We're not going in the Zone."

"_We're_ not, but maybe _I_ should." Danny said.

Sam could feel that this wasn't going to end well.

"We wouldn't let you go in there alone." Tucker stated, but Sam got up from her chair and placed two calming hands on Danny's shoulders as if to root him into the floor.

"No, Tuck. _No one_ is going into the Ghost Zone." She announced with an air of finality.

"Sam-" Danny started to protest, "What if they're planning something? What if something has happened to their dimension?"

He looked at her, eyes brimming with worry.

"What if the ghosts are in trouble?"

"What?" Tucker asked, deadpanned. The tone in his voice suggested he was just about over Danny's self-sacrificing bullshit.

Sam shared the same sentiment. Here she had been, worrying over the idea of all the ghosts teaming up and hatching a master plan that took a whole week to come to fruition. She had assumed that Danny had been too. But, of course, Danny's compassion extended to even his enemies. Even his non-human enemies.

"They're already dead, Danny. How much trouble could they really be in?" Tucker asked irritably. Sam almost hit Tucker in the head at his insensitivity, feeling Danny, predictably, get offended.

Danny bristled, shaking off Sam's hands and taking a few steps away from them.

"Being a ghost doesn't prevent you from feeling pain." He snapped.

"Danny, Tucker didn't mean it like that." Sam reached out to try and grab his hand but he already had that determined look on his face. The look that said he was going to go into the Ghost Zone, whether or not they wanted him to. Sam knew the time to talk Danny out of this had already passed. Why did she have to be best friends with someone so stubborn and selfless?

"C'mon." Tucker was trying to retract what he said before, "You're half-ghost. It's different."

"There is no difference." Danny retorted, anger simmering in his voice, "Half-ghost or full ghost, we suffer the same."

"Yeah - but they're your enemies. They don't remember how to be human-" Tucker started, face darkening.

"Guys-" Sam broke that train of conversation before it could escalate even further than it already had, sensing the beginnings of an epic fight. "Don't you think they can take care of themselves? If all of the ghosts in the ghost zone got together there isn't much that could stop them."

Which was exactly what she was afraid was happening right now.

Danny followed her train of thought, effectively ignoring Tucker for the time being.

"At first I thought they were planning something, but they all have so many different agendas that them working together for a week without fighting amongst themselves seems impossible." He turned to Sam, thoughtful frown on his face, "That's why I think they're all - collectively - in trouble."

Sam and Tucker were silent for a moment.

"You know I hate to say it but I think he's right," Tucker started finally after he calmed a bit. Sam and Danny glanced over at him in surprise. "I mean, besides Ember and Youngblood I don't see all of them agreeing enough to band together. Even then the minute their plans began to fail they started fighting each other."

Sam sighed. Damn Danny for making logical sense.

"Ok- fine." Sam relented, "Say they're in trouble. What makes you think that, if you went in there, whatever is attacking them won't just kill you too?"

"I'm half-ghost." Danny sent Tucker a humorous wink, mirth and confidence dancing in his blue eyes, "I'm different."

"What if its a sickness?" Sam continued, "Or something like Freakshow, controlling them all? What if the Ghost Zone itself, as a dimension, is disappearing?"

"We won't know until we go inside." Danny turned away from them and looked back into the Portal.

Sam was silent as she watched the swirling green ectoplasm reflect in her best friend's eyes. For a moment the color took over the blue and she caught a glimpse of Phantom, always there humming underneath the surface.

She walked up to him to stand beside him.

"Fine. Since I know I can't talk you out of it, I'm coming with you."

"_We're_ coming with you." Tucker was already suiting up behind them, his face set with grim determination. Danny and his previous almost-squabble already forgotten.

Danny frowned and started to go through the motions of protest, but he stopped halfway and shut his mouth again. He turned to look down into Sam's eyes. Not for the first time he marveled at her strength and grace, her unwavering loyalty. Both of them. A year ago Danny would have shoved them away - ashamed of what he was and afraid of getting them involved; afraid of losing them or hurting them. But a year later they had faced countless enemies and they were still here, closer than ever before.

He nodded wearily, knowing that Sam was just as bullheaded as himself. Just as his decision to go into the Zone was unmovable, so was Sam's decision to come with.

Sam watched as Danny accepted their help - abet, not without a lot of internal struggle.

She grinned a crooked grin and lightly punched him in the shoulder.

"You're learning." She noted, pleased, "A year ago and you would have attempted to tie me to the chair to keep me here."

"You would have just gotten free and followed me anyways." Danny muttered.

"Damn straight."

Tucker tossed Sam the jumpsuit. He moved to the large armory where the Fenton's kept their ecto-guns and grabbed a few, holstering it to his waist. He picked up a few different ones, tossing them over to Sam with a helpless shrug.

"Since we don't know what we're up against…" He tried to pick a variety of defense instruments.

Sam plugged her ears with the Fenton phones and Tucker did the same. They both turned to Danny and watched as he transformed. He glowed with unearthly light and sent a chill through the basement as Phantom.

"Ready?" Danny tapped his own earpiece, spinning in the air to look up at Sam and Tucker. They gave him a thumbs up from inside the Speeder.

"Ready, Clueless One." Sam intoned, firing up the small ship.

Danny turned back to the Portal.

"Alright. Here we go." He plunged himself through it.

For a minute there was only a sea of green. He felt the ectoplasm energy absorb into his ghostly form, infusing him with a surge power. It made his head light, dizzy, euphoric. His earpiece was solid static as communication to Sam and Tucker were negated while traveling the Portal itself.

He could sense the end of the tunnel coming and he tried to prepare himself for what he was about to see. Was this one giant trap? Had he vastly underestimated to cunning of all his enemies?

Or would he be greeted with chaos of a world being destroyed?

Or would the Zone be empty, devoid of any ghosts at all? Had they all passed on to…wherever ghosts go when they pass on?

When he finally found himself in the Zone, however, it was remarkably the same. There was no hunting party to greet him, and distantly he could see the floating lairs the same as they had ever been.

He spun as the Portal behind him surged and the Speeder propelled through. Sam and Tucker looked around wildly for him, before relief flooded across their faces.

"Everything looks fine." Sam noted, her voice tinny through the earpiece.

"I'll feel better when we see a ghost." Danny told them.

They drifted through the Zone for what felt like forever. The longer they drifted the more anxious they got.

"Still no sign of life." Tucker was using some of the Fenton instruments, trying to detect ghostly entities, but it kept reading only Danny. "Although I don't know how accurate this thing is right now. It might be getting thrown off by you."

"Danny, I'm worried. It's too quiet." Sam was getting nervous. The desire to turn around and flee was strong, but Danny couldn't be persuaded.

"Exactly." He was saying, "We have to figure out where they all are."

"This feels like a trap." Sam murmured.

"I don't think so… They would have attacked by now."

"Wait a minute-" Tucker interrupted, "I'm getting something."

"What?" Danny and Sam both asked at the same time, tensing.

"Another ghost, heading our way. We have a minute or- actually-"

"Whelp."

Danny spun, taking in Skulker's humming battle suit.

"Skulker." He greeted, muscles tensing in preparation for battle, but Skulker instead tilted his head almost comically, "Weirdly enough, I'm glad to see you." Glad to see he wasn't gone. That must mean the other ghosts were fine as well?

"You're late. We've all been waiting." The robot intoned seriously, voice deep.

Danny felt a thrill run through him. So Sam had been right all along? This was one giant trap? Danny heard the sharp gasp of breath from Sam in the cockpit behind him.

"Danny- we need to go. _Now."_ Tucker was saying nervously. Danny ignored him.

"Waiting? Waiting for what?" He asked, already sure he wasn't going to like the answer.

"You, of course." Skulker smirked darkly, unholstering a large barrel gun and taking aim, "Nice of you to finally show up. We've only been planning this all week."

"Uh- How thoughtful of you guys…" Danny flowed the ecto-energy into his fists, watching as they flicked to life as he moved into an offensive stance, "You really didn't have to go to all the effort."

"Oh believe me, it was our _pleasure._" Skulker let out a booming laugh.

"Danny-" Tucker's voice in his ear, "Leave him. We need to go."

_"Now, Danny."_ Sam's tone was near hysterical.

Danny paused at her voice and, temporarily distracted, spun to look up at her in the Speeder. Her eyes were wide. Tucker was pointing frantically at the Fenton ghost detector. There was two central beeping red blips - himself and Skulker - and at least twenty more along the outer edges moving quickly towards them.

Realization flooded through him and he let out a defeated breath, watching in dismay as it came out in a cloud of ghostly vapor - a chill shuddering through him. He prepared himself to launch backwards out of the vicinity, but was too slow.

Danny only heard the loud boom of Skulker's gun _after_ he was hit by the net.

"Danny!" Sam screamed, making his ear pound.

He struggled uselessly, attempting to blast his way out as Sam and Tucker prepared to open fire, but the Speeder's guns took too long to power up. Skulker already had him lobbed over his shoulder like a strange ghostly Santa Claus and was hauling him far deeper into the Ghost Zone than Danny had ever had the courage to venture.

"Sam? Tucker?" Danny whispered frantically, "I'm being taken south - I think - past Pariah's castle-"

He attempted to relay his location, but it was useless. Soon he had no idea where he was. The Zone was a never-ending sea of nebulous green and black. Besides, he had no idea if his messages were even being received. The other end had been silent for a while now - the distance between them too great.

Or- Danny thought darkly - the other ghosts had showed up and had stopped them from following him. Were Sam and Tucker okay? Were they alive?

Danny dimly remembered Sam tucking the Boo-merang into her belt. For a while Danny had been considering reseting it - not really happy about anyone being able to find his location whenever they wanted, privacy and all, but he was glad Jazz had talked him out of it. There was still hope of Sam and Tucker finding him.

If they all made it out of this alive, he had a lot of apologizing to do. He should have listened to them. Maybe then they wouldn't be in this mess. His body complained at being forced into a tight ball, the netting too small. His arms and legs were pinned uselessly to his sides, preventing him from throwing a punch of any kind.

He hated being shackled. Already the claustrophobia was making his head spin.

He attempted, again, to blast his way out but it was no use. He couldn't even get his blasts through the tight weaving to hit Skulker in the back.

"Finally!" Skulker was saying, ignoring his attempts at escape, "I have you at last. And I know the perfect spot for your stuffed head. Right above my mantlepiece. An honorable location to show off my finest and most difficult kill."

Danny felt a little nauseous at the thought. He willed himself not to vomit.

"Your skin will be leathered to make my throne, of course…" Skulker continued, "No part of you will be wasted."

"That's a relief." Danny muttered sardonically as he tried pounding his head back into Skulker's suit, only to have it ping off the steel painfully, "I've really been trying to cut back on my footprint."

"Insolent pup." Skulker hummed, actually detecting Danny's biting sarcasm, "I might just behead you right now to make you shut up."

"No one's being beheaded, Ironman." A lyrical voice rang out like clear water. Danny blinked, attempting to crane his neck to see the source. He felt Skulker freeze guiltily, shrinking in size.

"I was just-" Skulker started, his voice feigning innocence.

"Really. You can't even follow the simplest of orders. You were told not to harm him."

"I didn't hurt him. I caught him… He's _mine…_" Skulker whined petulantly.

"If you kill him now you'll have nothing left to chase." The voice argued, "Not to mention Walker will finally have the reason he needs to lock you up for good."

Danny caught a whiff of blue fire before Ember McLain's beautiful round face was inches from his. He should have recognized that musical voice.

"Hey baby-pop." She breathed. She then gave him a sweet smile that made Danny terrible afraid, "Although, you're not a baby anymore."

He was screwed. He didn't like the way she was looking at him; like he was a piece of meat.

"Aren't you two, like….dating?" Danny asked, feeling very much like this whole situation was unreal.

Ember let out a derisive snort. She leaned in closer to his ear to whisper, "Our romance was more tactical than physical. In case you haven't noticed, Dipstick, Skulker here doesn't really have a… well…"

She really didn't need to finish that sentence. Danny felt his cheeks light up green with ectoplasmic blood. There was a mental image he was already frantically trying to scrub from his brain.

Ember turned away from him to Skulker.

"Let him go." She ordered, placing a hand on her hip. Skulker argued for a good minute and a half, but eventually succumbed, weak to the siren call of Ember's womanly curves and persuasive voice. Danny himself felt a weak tug; a need to obey her.

It was the reason why, even after he tumbled out of the net, he didn't blast them apart. He drifted instead, dazed and mesmerized by Ember's beautiful voice.

"What is going on?" He finally managed to ask.

She blinked enormous green eyes at him. Danny had thought she would have killed him by now. Or at least blasted him into pieces with her guitar. Only she wasn't wearing it. Danny blinked. She was unarmed? Why?

"You don't know?" She asked, "How can you not know?"

"Know what?"

"No wonder you are a day late."

Danny felt a surge of irritation, glaring at her. Ember reached out, body sinuous, to grab his hand and tug him along to an unfamiliar lair. He was too curious to not follow.

Skulker was trailing dejectedly along behind them like a whipped puppy, net hanging empty across his back. He didn't attempt another capture. Instead he shoved the doors to the lair open and Ember pushed Danny inside.

He blinked, seeing a room entirely decked out in black and white skulls. Danny wasn't so sure they were fake. In fact, if Skulker and Ember had any hand in this they were probably real. Beyond the lavish decorations there was a gigantic number one floating in the middle of the room. Danny realized after closer inspection it was a cake.

"What the-" He started.

Suddenly there was a roar that made him nearly jump out of his skin as over fifteen very familiar ghosts appeared, flickering out of invisibility. Danny couldn't help but release a blast of ectoplasm in defense, shocked at the sudden appearance of all his enemies at once. His attack went wide of the Lunch Lady and blasted apart her floating cake, covering Youngblood and the Box Ghost.

The Lunch Lady frowned murderously at the destroyed cake. Youngblood licked frosting out of his hair. Skulker, Ember, Youngblood, Box Ghost, Lunch Lady, Kitty, Johnny 13… almost everyone that Danny had ever had some semblance of a friendship with.

"Happy one year anniversary." Kitty announced, wrapped in Johnny 13's arms.

"Of what?" But he thought he already knew.

"Your death, of course. Or, at least - your half-death."

"But-why?" Danny was still confused. Had it really been one year since the Portal accident? He calculated for a moment, realizing that yes - it had. Yesterday had marked the day he that had changed his life, forever. He hadn't even noticed.

"We can't fight you on your Deathday." Ember explained, shooting a very pointed glare at Skulker who was muttering to himself, "Its against the rules. Even for half-ghosts like you."

"What about Sam? And Tucker?" He suddenly thought of them. Did this non-fighting rule extended to them? Had they been spared?

"They're fine. Amity Park and your human allies are safe…until tomorrow" Skulker told him threateningly.

Ember sized him up and down as she floated until she was inches from him. The smell of smoke and perfume overwhelmed him as she ran a cold manicured fingernail down his black hazmat suit. Her eyes were hypnotizing. His teenage male brain went blank under her spell as her breasts pressed up against him. Danny had never been close enough to Ember except when punching her. He had never really looked at her before, never realized how… curvy she was.

"Since its your first Deathday, I got you something _special._" She all but sung, "I think you're going to enjoy it. I know I will."


	3. Fear's Best Friend

**Fear's Best Friend**

_A brief diatribe on what it means to be someone's hero, and what it means to be an older sister._

x

It's unnerving, really. When I really think about it (which I try not to do) it makes me uncomfortable. This feeling of being outside myself.

Often my thoughts spiral out of control until I can no longer breath, much less stand. Like right now: slumped on my bathroom floor, gasping for breath. All because a little girl turned to look at me in the mall, tucked under her arm a Danny Phantom action figure.

I never set out to be a hero; it just happened. I had set out to recapture the ghosts I had unwittingly let out of the Portal. To restore order and then go about my merry way. But now this whole _thing_ had run away from me. And no matter how desperately I try and reign it back it charges ahead, like a brakeless train, only gaining more and more momentum as it thunders downhill towards an unknown destination, dragging me along for the ride.

But really, being Phantom isn't at all like in the comic books I read growing up.

The world isn't drawn in black and white _whams_ and _pows_. The world is mottled grey at best. And when you get punched in the face it sounds like a jet engine in your ear. And it hurts. Not for a page or two. For a week if you're lucky.

There are good people that do bad things. There are people that had bad things happen to them. There are people that will do anything to survive. There are no villains, only misguided ones, hard choices, and tough circumstances.

And what's with comic book heroes always knowing what to do? How are they always so confident?

Only a year ago I was struggling to find myself. An awkward teenager trying to fit into a family full of geniuses. Nothing has really changed; I'm just a few years older. Older and with power I can't hope to understand, only slightly know how to control.

And how come heroes never seem to feel fear? How come they never falter?

I am terrified. All the time. This paranoia creeps behind me in my shadow, clinging like gum to my shoes. Paranoia of my parents finding out about me, of them abandoning me or worse - dissecting me. Of committing a blunder through my own carelessness that hurts the people I care about the most. Of this constant state I live in called "Never knowing what the fuck I'm doing". Of being captured and experimented on. Of dying. Of becoming fully ghost. Of never being human again; never being normal; never fitting in.

Recently you can add the GIW to this list. And Skulker. And Walker. And Plasmius. It seems that with each passing month my foes grow stronger and more terrifying. I am certain this train I'm on is going to finally meet it's match. It's going to crash in a beautiful scream of grotesque metal and flames as it tries to barrel its way through an unmovable mountain and I'll be the red smear left behind.

I am afraid of all the hats I'm juggling. Phantom, Fenton, son, student, wimp, hero, nobody, somebody, friend, enemy, frenemy, brother. One day my hand won't be quick enough to keep them in the air all at once.

Above all else and against all reason I'm afraid of Danny Phantom. I'm afraid of who that little girl in the mall thinks he is, and how it's impossible for me to even come close.

I can do fine ignoring it. When it's just Sam, Tucker, and I fighting ghosts the terror simmers into a dull roar. But it's always there. Like a best friend holding my hand, I drag it along with me everywhere I go. Most of the time it's more of an inconvenience than debilitating. Like a rock in your shoe. It's only after moments like in the mall when this constant companion of mine yanks me down, pins me to the floor, and presses a heel to my stomach until I vomit up everything I have.

Already I've poured my guts into this toilet. Even as I lay here my stomach writhes mutinously within me.

This city has taken Danny Phantom from me.

They've ripped him out of my hands and built a monument in his name. Put his face on mugs and t-shirts and action figures. There are fan clubs and comic books devoted to him. The more I see it the more I know that Phantom can no longer be mine. Amity Park's Phantom is brave and always knows the right answer from the wrong one. He fears no foe, for he is dead already, and as such he's invincible. He is everything I know I can never truly be, because he is no longer me.

It is this feeling of having absolutely no control over who you are that levels me - because who Phantom is perceived as is who I have to live up to be.

I am constantly sprinting as fast as I can just to meet their expectations. My lungs heave with the effort of just trying to keep up, to suck the air in and back out and back in and back out... And what should happen if I slip?

"...Danny?"

My bathroom door opens, letting light flood across the tile floor. For a horrible moment I think it's my mom.

"Danny? Oh my god. Are you hurt?"

It's just Jazz.

She crosses my bathroom in four quick steps, grabbing me by my armpits and hauling me up so I'm leaning against the bathtub. The feeling of being grabbed only heightens my hysteria.

I try and tell her I'm fine, but I have no air to speak. My head spins and I move to slump. I can't decide if I want to scream, puke, or pass out. Her body is suddenly there to catch me before my head once again finds the floor.

Jazz's eyes dart across my face, wide and concerned as she checks for injury and finds none. My entire body is quaking; my hands curl to fists and I punch them into my chest as if I can calm my seizing heart. It takes my brilliant sister only a minute to read all the signs and realize I'm just having a panic attack.

Part of me wishes she had left me alone. The ashamed self-loathing unconfident part of me. The part that tells me I'm too weak to even hope to be half the hero Amity Park thinks I am.

"Hey there... hey, it's okay." She whispers. Out of instinct she grabs my hands to stop me from punching them into my chest. Immediately I feel my throat tighten. I'm dying. This must be what its like to actually die.

"Shit- I'm sorry. I'm not touching you. Look." Jazz shows me her open palms. "Look at me, Danny. You're fine. You're home, you're safe. You're okay. Okay? You're okay."

I know I'm not okay; I'm terrified. I know that even in my home I'm still not safe. Navigating this house is like navigating a minefield. Any wrong step could set off a Fenton ghost hunting instrument. Opening the fridge could blow my head off. But she is enough to distract me from my racing thoughts.

"Let's breathe, together. Alright?" Jazz's voice is calm and slow. A sharp contrast to my own internal voice who, for the past half hour, had been screaming my own inadequacies at me. I attempt a nod, anxious sweat beads dotting my forehead.

Jazz gets up suddenly and grabs a washcloth, wetting it in the sink. She returns and places it around the back of my neck. After a moment of consideration she flushes the toilet. The air immediately feels fresher, lighter, and more easy to breathe. Internally I'm grateful. I hadn't had the strength to do so myself.

Together we sit for what seems like ages. Jazz doesn't leave me, not even once. She ends up leaning back against the tub with me. The only sound is my panicked breathes along with her slow ones and the intermittent soft reminder "_It's okay, Danny. It's all going to be okay."_ It's probably the longest we've ever sat in silence in the same room since we shared a nursery.

I don't know how long it lasts or when exactly it ends, but I lean into her shoulder, exhausted, as my breathes finally match hers. We sound like one of those CDs our mom used to play in our nursery to put us to sleep, a recording of waves gently breaking over and over.

"Danny?" She questions, looking over at me, "Is it over?"

"For now." I tell her.

She's silent at that, worrying her bottom lip.

"This isn't the first time?" It's not a question. Not really. So I don't feel the need to answer it. Instead I shrug into her bony shoulder.

"Will you tell me what caused it?"

I think back at the Danny Phantom action hero and the adoration in the little girl's eyes coupled with the crushing guilt of knowing I couldn't be what she wanted me to be.

"It's stupid." I deflect.

"It didn't look stupid."

I play with the hem of my shirt and I tell her. I tell her everything. It comes out in a big mess all over the floor. About how I have no clue what I'm doing. Of how I'm afraid of everything this new life entails. How I'm panicked that I won't be good enough, that I won't live up to people's expectations, that someone will get hurt.

She just sits there and listens and never interrupts me.

I know she probably won't have any answers, but I also know she won't pretend otherwise. She was perhaps the only person that could absorb my darkest fears without judgement. Despite her terrible ghost fighting skills, she would always fill this unique role on Team Phantom.

Because really, despite usually being an annoying know-it-all, Jazz understands when to just shut up and _listen_ to me. Even after finding out about Phantom, she's the only person that still treats me as Danny _Fenton_: her awkward, clumsy, flawed little brother. She, of course, places her own expectations on me, but they haven't changed since we were little. She's never demanded perfection from me. Never demanded anything I couldn't give her.

And more than anything she's always treated me as human. Not a face, not a ghost, not even a hero.


	4. Just Kids

**Just Kids**

_Phanniemay, death prompt._

Rating: M (Graphic death, Language)

x

Valerie felt a wave of indignation erupt inside her, glaring across the way at her opponent. Or - opponents. Behind the ghost kid there was a splash of dark starry sky and the imposing figure of a rogue ghost - a giant purple dragon - that was currently tearing apart the foundations of the park below with frenzied madness. Several stories underneath her humming hoverpad were the twin shouts of Phantom's backup crew - Sam Manson and Tucker Foley - as they leveled the dragon with ecto-blasts. The high pitch whine of Fenton-made weaponry pierced the air as Manson aimed what looked like one of their thermoses, missing the mark by a few feet as the dragon ducked and roared.

Valerie turned, instead, away from the dragon to inspect the poltergeist she had been dead set on destroying for the past month. His white hair was in disarray and he was grinning in merriment, spinning in the air to try and keep both Valerie and the dragon in his eyesight.

Like normal, the spectre had been elusive. Never getting close enough for Valerie to hit him with her newest weapon. She reached behind her back, fingering the shiny new toy hanging off her belt. Vlad Masters didn't know she had taken it from his lab. He would probably be pissed that she had stolen it - but hopefully when she bagged the ghost kid and handed him over he would find it in his heart to forgive her.

To be honest she didn't quite understand why he hadn't given it to her in the first place. Maybe it didn't actually work. But still, even if it _kinda_ worked it would be enough to drain the ghost kid of a lot of that power that was humming off of him. If anything it would knock the kids stifling arrogance down a few notches. Valerie wondered how the ghost even managed to see around his own hubris.

She just had to get him close enough to use it. Her hand drifted off of the new gadget and onto her normal well-worn ecto-gun, unholstering it and taking aim.

She squinted and shot off a few blasts, targeting the dragon for two, and then Phantom for the last two. She watched with dismay as Phantom launched himself into a backflip, letting go of a delighted laugh as he avoided the shots with ease. Valerie frowned, troubled. He was getting more and more powerful. More and more mischievous. Not to mention more and more comfortable flying around. Almost like he was enjoying himself in these fights. He was also getting harder and harder to land a hit on. Valerie couldn't remember the last time she had seen the boy take a hit. He had honed his intangibility skills so that bullets and knives just passed harmlessly through him.

The dragon, however, she hit. It stumbled, letting go of an enraged roar, attention diverted from the two humans down below and instead to Valerie. She swerved to narrowly avoid its claws as it drew itself up to full height, wings flapping hard enough to make her hoverpad swerve.

"You shoot like a girl!" Phantom called out, throwing her a cantankerous grin, fist glowing green before he sent off spiraling blasts at the dragon to try and halt its progress as it stumbled over to the two of them, "Really, I know you hate me, but can't we pause until after I bag this guy? Two against one isn't fair and you know it."

"Who said anything about me fighting fair?" Valerie shot back.

Shoot like a girl, huh? Valerie felt a wave of intense hatred rush through her. The ghost had some nerve. She knew she was never going to get close to Phantom. Not unless... Valerie calculated internally, devising a plan.

_No,_ she told herself. _That was underhanded. Dirty._ It was dangerous also. But, still, she knew it was a plan that would work. It was obvious Phantom's obsession was pretending to be the protector of Amity Park's human population, an obsession that extended even to the Red Huntress despite their history. She knew it was the only way he would come within five feet of her.

Valerie hooked her gun back to her holster, swapping it for the new one. She clicked her heels against the sled and felt it react, locking them in place tightly with hardened steel.

_Its just a ghost_ \- She thought,_ it's not like it's human. It's not like it can feel_. Besides, if this plan worked she would have gotten rid of Undesirable Number One. She would finally get her revenge. She glared over at Phantom as if to remind herself how much she abhorred him for ruining everything. It made her feel a bit better for what she was about to do to him.

The dragon was still barreling towards her. All of Valerie's instincts screamed she should swerve, but she squashed them, remaining rooted in her spot hovering several stories over a large old oak. Sam Manson and Tucker Foley were mere specks, chasing after the wake the dragon was leaving behind. The flashes of their guns were like tiny green shooting stars far below.

Phantom spun to face her suddenly, taking in the scene. His face, strangely flushed with excitement from the fight, suddenly grew still as his eyes widened and he calculated what was about to happen.

"Watch out-!" He warned, voice echoing across the vast empty space between them. But, Valerie instead braced herself. Her hand tightened around the new weapon, making sure she didn't loose it after the impact. It was the only way her plan would come to fruition.

The dragon's tail whipped out, catching the bottom of her hoverpad and sending her violently spinning up into the air. Valerie clutched onto it for dear life, feeling very much like she was inside a blender. She twirled gut-wrenchingly for what felt like forever before her the sled finally righted itself. Dazed, she slumped against the pad, ears ringing, feeling her ankles throbbing. She was certain they were both sprained - if not broken.

There was hot blood running down her forehead and into her left eye where she had struck it against the sled. Her whole body complained; her neck tight from whiplash. She felt like she was going to vomit for a long moment, the night sky still spinning around above her.

Two glowing circles were suddenly feet from her.

Valerie forced herself upright. She still had the gun. Ignoring the stabbing pain in her ankles she looked up through her goggles, seeing Phantom's concerned face bobbing about three feet from her. Well within range.

"...You alright? That was a pretty bad hit." Phantom's voice was worried, all that humor and youth suspended, grin fading from his face as he peered at her critically.

"Better than you're about to be, ghost." She hissed, standing and drawing the weapon, aiming it at directly at Phantom's chest and, in one fluid motion, firing.

Valerie wasn't sure what to expect. She certainly didn't expect the hot blast of electricity, the burst of light and the smell of metal, the charges embedding themselves into the ghost's inky hazmat suit as he convulsed for a long moment, frozen. It was like a taser?

"Do I still shoot like a girl?" She asked him coldly, "Not so invincible now, are you?" _Finally._ Finally she had him!

She blinked, watching with confusion as a solid blinding ring of light erupted from around Phantom's waist and he groaned, loosing a good two feet of altitude. His youthful face went through a flurry of emotions before she was forced to advert her gaze - surprise, hurt, betrayal, fear, anger, apprehension, and even.. forgiveness?

Valerie closed her eyes to avoid being blinded. There was a thud and her hovercraft pitch forward suddenly. When she looked back Phantom was gone. In his place, hanging precariously with only one hand on the cusp of her sled, was...

"...Fenton?" Valerie managed out, voice barely a whisper. His blue eyes flicked up to hers, horrified, grip slipping. All traces of mischief gone.

Fenton. Phantom. Valerie felt like she had been struck with an anvil. No... impossible. But it made so much sense. Of course, how had she not seen it before? She heard the sharp cry of Tucker, far below, calling Danny's name. Dimly Valerie realized the dragon was still wrecking havoc below them, that Sam and Tucker were still fighting it, unaware of what was going on far above them. She couldn't move, couldn't breath. She just stared down at Danny in complete shock.

"Valerie- Please-" Danny choked - _he knew about her?_ \- eyes pleading as his fingers slipped another inch along the edge. The sled was the only thing keeping him from falling to his death. The strength in his arm was failing. He was completely vulnerable with his powers drained. He reached up with his other hand, palm open and expectant, trusting, looking for her hand to pull him up now that she recognized him. But she just stared, her jaw slack, down at him. Her mind blank, limbs limp.

His face lit in dawning realization. She wasn't about to help him. There was the soft sound of air rushing out of his lungs, the crestfallen gaze of his eyes, and the momentary panicked scuffle of his fingers scrambling for purchase on the hoverpad before they slipped completely off and his face disappeared from her sight.

Valerie felt like she had been the one that had been tased. She floated for a long moment, frozen, her entire world pitched upside down. It wasn't until Sam's sharp poignant scream hit her like a jolt of adrenaline that her brain connected what had just happened.

Danny Fenton was the ghost boy. She had just shorted out his powers. They were multiple stories up in the air. He was falling. He was going to die. But he was a ghost... wasn't he already dead?

Valerie pushed all her questions out of the way and hunched down low in preparation for a rescue.

She tilted the hoverpad into a nosedive, intent on speeding to catch him, but those three seconds she had spent suspended had allowed the dragon to close in on her again. Valerie watched helplessly as Danny's white shirt was swallowed into the darkness below her. He didn't even yell; he just fell in complete silence. Every half a second a weak burst of light would appear - _he's trying to change back_ \- but it got smaller and smaller as he gathered momentum towards the unforgiving ground.

The dragon's wingspan suddenly blocked her view, forcing her to swerve up and out of the way. Too late. She was too late to catch him. She had hesitated too long. Valerie let out a frustrated scream, wrenching her assault weapons out and firing everything she had at the dragon as if to blast it out of her way. But it didn't matter. She knew the damage had already been done. Tears blotted her vision, spilling from her eyes and down her cheeks.

The next few seconds were a blur.

The dragon retreated, smoking from Valerie's barrage. Sam was screaming incoherently from below. There was a whirl and a sucking noise as one of them - Tucker - captured the weakened dragon. And then there was horrible, unbearable, deafening silence.

x

Sam was running full tilt, not looking where she was going as she stared at the spot in the sky she had last seen Danny.

The old oak tree ahead was still shuddering from the force of his impact. Sam prayed that it was enough to slow down his fall before he had hit the ground.

"_Bitch!"_ She half screamed as she jumped over the deep trenches the dragon had ripped into the park ground. She had seen their exchange. For one heart-stopping moment she had been actually concerned for Valerie. Until she had witnessed the girl short out Danny's powers and stand there and _watch_ as Danny struggled to hold onto her hoverpad. _"Murderous fucking cunt!"_ She hissed under her breath. Valerie had tricked him, preyed on Danny's hero complex to lure him close.

Never before had Sam considered Danny's noble heart to be a potentially fatal flaw in his character. Valerie had known Danny would check to make sure she was okay! She had exploited his compassion to her own ends. She had even known his true identity, and had _still_ refused to save him.

"No, not save him 'cause Danny isn't dead." Sam whispered to herself, dimly hearing the whirl of the thermos far behind her, knowing Tucker had finally contained the dragon. But there was no victory. In the matter of a split second tonight had gone from average to a waking nightmare.

Sam felt her heart pounding in her throat as she drew near the tree. There were full branches lying across the ground, splintered and snapped from the force of Danny's body colliding with it.

"Danny?" She could barely talk, fear clenching her windpipe. She had not expected an answer and did not receive one.

There was a glimmer of a limp red sneaker underneath an enormous branch. It was as wide around as a large trashbin. With a small cry she scrambled at it, attempting to lift it off of him, struggling, but infused with superhero strength that only came from blind panic. She pushed it mostly off of him.

"Danny?" She called, falling to her knees next to him. His eyes were half-lidded, unfocused, dull. There was blood smeared across his cheek, and underneath his head the soil was darkening with it. A growing puddle of faintly glowing blood, even as Sam watched. It was leaking out from everywhere, spilling from his mouth, nose, ears... Sam whimpered, afraid to touch him. She realized with horror that there was a branch impaling him through the stomach. His limbs were spread out, angling strangely, broken. She tucked them gently into his body as she checked for a pulse.

For a horrific moment she was certain he was gone, but then his eyes fluttered and miraculously focused up on her face.

"Oh my god." She couldn't help but say. Of course. Leave it to Danny to fall the length of a skyscraper and still be conscious.

He struggled, eyes drifting, before overwhelming agony contorted his face as he struggled for breath. He let out a feral cry, reminding Sam of the sound her dog had given after being struck by a car. It was animalistic and tortured, pleading.

"Shh.." Sam regained some composure, taking his head gently into her lap - ignoring the way his spine felt like liquid, ignoring how the back of his head was slightly crushed, wet with blood that was coating her hands. "Shhh..."

Danny choked several times, lung collapsed, as blood coated the inside of his mouth.

He blinked up at her, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. Sam felt the urge to cry as well, but she pushed it back for later, instead stroking his hair back from his forehead soothingly over and over again, rocking gently like a mother would a fussy newborn, as she curled protectively around his broken body.

"It's okay." She whispered to him, leaning over so her eyes were the only thing he could see. She forced herself to look into his, to see all of his pain, his terror, his fading light.

"S-Sam-" He managed to choke out, recognizing her purple eyes.

"Its going to be okay." She soothed, "Help is coming. You're going to be fine."

She felt hope flutter up in her chest, abandoning all rational thought. Tucker had already called the ambulance. They would be here any second. They would save him. Danny healed fast - he had survived being electrocuted. He was awake still, despite all odds, and recognized her. He would fight through this too.

She watched as Danny's eyes rolled into the back of his head for a moment before he fought his way back to awareness.

"I'm done." He announced.

Sam shook her head, wiping the tears off of Danny's cheeks before they had a chance to fall and intermingle with his blood.

"Don't say that, you'll make it. You're just a little scuffed up." She said confidently, "Don't be such a baby."

Danny attempted a laugh, but somewhere along the way it contorted and came out as a sob.

There was the sound of footsteps and Sam looked up, seeing Tucker running towards them. His face was pale and he stumbled to an abrupt stop as he saw Danny lying in Sam's arms. There was the dull thud of the thermos hitting and rolling along the ground before Tucker took the last few steps to Danny's side.

"Oh fuck-" He managed out, looking like he was going to pass out at the sight of Danny's mangled body. Sam shot him a stern look. Tucker swallowed, seeing Danny was somehow still aware.

"T-Tuck." Danny coughed. His body convulsed weakly, his eyelids fluttering shut against the assault of pain. The blood just kept coming, Sam could do nothing to stop it.

"Hey, man." Tucker managed, kneeling next to him. His hand hovered uncertainly over Danny's shoulder, afraid to touch him. Tucker ended up taking Danny's limp hand in his. Not that Danny could feel it. He couldn't feel anything from the chest down. Thankfully.

"You don't look so good, dude." Tucker attempted to joke.

Danny gave a tiny bloody smile at that.

Suddenly Sam tensed and let out a dangerous growl. Tucker tore his eyes away from Danny's face to see the shadowed form of Valerie standing, helmet off, nearby.

There was tears streaming down her cheeks and blood matting her hair. She looked absolutely lost.

"I didn't kn-" She tried to say, taking a few steps towards the trio.

"Stay away." Sam's voice cut through the air like a harpoon. Unforgiving, territorial, malicious. "Don't you _dare_ come any closer to him. You _bitch._"

"Sam." Tucker warned. Valerie flinched and shrunk in size under Sam's verbal assault.

Tucker glanced down at Danny. He was struggling to stay conscious. Danny didn't need to hear this. Tucker tried to reach out to put a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder but she violently slapped it off, her violet eyes brimming with unrestrained hatred, teeth bared.

"She _did this, Tucker._ I saw her." Sam turned back to Valerie, "You could have pulled him up."

Valerie did nothing to deny this accusation.

"All this time you've been hunting him, thinking he was the villain. Danny isn't the monster, _you are!_" Sam yelled, voice nearly breaking.

"Sam." Danny's voice was thin fishing wire. Barely audible. But, where Tucker had been unable to snap Sam out of her tirade Danny's barely-there whisper had her full attention. She turned back to him, hands shaking, much of her anger fizzling out at the sight of his eyes fading. He wasn't looking at her anymore. He was looking at an empty space somewhere to the left of her head. Sam had to bend closer to him to make out what he was trying to say.

"Don't-" He struggled, "Don't hate her. I-" He trailed off.

Sam shook her head, a tidal wave of confusion washing through her. How could Danny ask for her to forgive Valerie, after what she had done?

Distantly there was the high pitch whine of a siren.

"The ambulance is almost here." Tucker told Danny encouragingly, ignoring Valerie who hadn't moved. She was staring glassily at the scene in front of her. Tucker instead looked down at his friend's still face.

"You what, Danny?" Sam prompted, eyes darting along his visage. She paused for a long moment, thinking he had passed out again, waiting for him to come back. His eyes were clouded, his breathing was... he wasn't... he wasn't breathing. Sam's fingers scrambled around his face, smearing blood across unmoving lips. Sam felt her voice tremble as she stared down at him.

"You what?" She repeated, tapping his cheek, softly at first before resorting to full blown slaps when he didn't respond.

"Sam-" Tucker grabbed her small wrist before she could strike Danny's cheek again, his face desolate, terrible, "He's gone."

Impossible. Danny didn't die. He never died. And even if he did, he certainly wouldn't die at Valerie's hand. He wouldn't die so quiet and sneaky that Sam hadn't even noticed the imperceptible change in his face. Sam had never seen someone die, but she thought it would have been a lot more dramatic. Perhaps Danny's bloody hand on her cheek and a whispered _'I love you'_ before it fell to his side. Even a choked scream would have been better than this! All her horror movies had ill prepared her for how anti-climatic Danny's last moments had been.

He had just... slipped away mid sentence. He hadn't even said goodbye.

"No no no no no.." Sam whispered, shaking her head over and over, "He's not. He wouldn't. You WHAT Danny? Don't you dare leave. You what?! Tell me!"

Her vision blurred with the tears she had been holding back.

Tucker could only watch as Sam shattered before him.

She gave a low moan, her sobs so enormous they caught in her throat as she collapsed over Danny, pressing her face into his hair. She gripped his shirt before pulling back - his blood streaking across her face - as she started to punch him in the chest desperate to restart his heart.

"Can't be- Come back-" Her words dissolved, incomprehensible, undone. Tucker quickly got up and grabbed her from around the waist. He hauled her away from Danny forcibly. Even as he did so she screamed at him, punching and writhing like a wild animal. Tucker grunted as she elbowed him and slapped him and screamed hysterical obscenities at him, but he was numb in shock. He firmly pressed her head into his chest, not allowing her to look back at the clearing underneath the tree and see the body.

Tucker looked over Sam's head at Valerie who's knees had buckled. She was curled in a fetal position, much like a child, rocking back and forth in absolute silence. She almost looked like she was praying.

Sam's initial screams had faded and she had fallen still, limp, against him. Tucker felt much of his own strength dwindle, falling to the side and bringing her down with him. Her shaking arms were tightly gripped around his middle. She clutched at him like a lost infant, her forehead boring into his chest as she shook violently.

They were all children, Tucker realized dimly.

Arrogant and disillusioned of their own ephemerality because - after all - they were just kids. And none of them had realized when this had ceased to be a game.


	5. I Didn't Lose Him

**Stuck**

x

"This is going from mean to cruel." Tucker frowned, "He's been in there for like four hours already."

Sam shrugged, chewing her lunch nonchalantly. Tucker reminded himself never to invoke her wrath. Danny had made that mistake over the weekend and look what had happened to him.

"Maybe he should have thought of that before completely blowing me off on Saturday." Sam griped, poking a bit at her salad, "I'm teaching him a lesson of life and girls. Besides, I'll let him out soon enough. He can't miss Lancer's class again anyways."

"You _do_ know he's only half ghost right?" Tucker asked, lowering his voice. He had been valiantly attempting to be a good best friend and talk Sam into letting him out for the past hour, "Who knows what being shoved inside there will do to him."

"Jazz did it before. Multiple times. He was fine."

"Yeah but she let him out right away. Not four hours later."

Genuine worry flashed across Sam's face at the thought. Maybe Tucker was right.

"Fine." She relented, turning around to get her bag from where it was sitting on the cafeteria floor. She blinked, seeing it was already unzipped. "Uh... Tucker?"

"What?" Tucker put down his hamburger.

"He's not in here..."

"You _lost_ him?!" Tucker sputtered, spitting out the large bite he had been chewing.

"No!" Sam immediately defended, although her face was pale. She rooted around in her bag for a long moment, dumping its contents onto the table. "Maybe... I don't know... _I didn't lose him!_"

x

Danny was unsure just how long he had been stuck in here. It had felt like an entire age had passed. He could see and hear nothing. It was always disconcerting to be crammed into such a tiny space. It wasn't that he was claustrophobic, it was that his ghostly form was forced to dissipate into a pile of floating ectoplasm. No limbs. Just soul and energy. Danny prayed that once Sam let him out he'd still remember how to grow back his legs.

Really. How long was Sam going to keep this up? He hadn't thought she had been _this_ mad. He must have really, actually, hurt her feelings. He had definitely learned his lesson. There had been nothing else to do in here but ponder how much of an ass he'd been lately. The first thing he was going to do after she let him out was apologize. No more skipping horror night. He'd even eat all her cardboard food and not complain. He'd even pretend to _enjoy_ it.

Man, was this what it felt like to be whipped?

Danny was pondering this question when light flooded his senses and there was the click and soft whine of the Thermos powering up - preparing to shoot him back into the world. Finally. Thank _god._

Danny felt his energy get scooped up and propelled towards freedom. He tumbled for a second, feeling his body regenerate into his normal ghostly form- legs, arms, and all. He blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the light of the room.

He was disoriented for a good minute. The night sky outside told him he had been in the thermos for a whole day. Lancer was going to kill him for skipping class again. Not that it had been his fault this time. Although, Sam would argue that it had been.

As his vision spun facts started to trickle into his rattled brain. Facts that didn't make _any_ sense. Like the pink silk bedspread he was sitting on. Or the posters of Danny Phantom hanging on the walls. The soft glow of a scented candle; the voluptuous beat of a latin American love song.

Most importantly, the soft warmth and weight of a slender girl sitting on his lap, pinning him against the headboard of the bed.

"Does this mean I get three wishes, Ghost Boy?"

Danny stared dumbly up at her - cinnamon, smoky eyes, cute accent and all as Paulina Sanchez's luscious lips descended upon his.

Danny knew that he should be enthralled by this latest development, but all he could manage to think was: Fuck, he was fucking _fucked_. When Sam found out about this she was going to shove him right back in that thermos and dump it in the ocean for good.


	6. It'll Be Fun

**It'll Be Fun**

x

Swap roles for a day, he said.

It will be fun, he said.

Dani kicked a few of Danny's books around in his room, uncomfortable with the way her breasts were pinned tightly to her chest by the tight sports bra. Danny owed her. Big time. Like wasn't this some sort of parent trap shenanigans? Although, Dani couldn't help but love being needed by her 'cousin'. Usually it was the other way around. And, despite the way that her longer hair was tickling the back of her neck underneath his beanie, she found this whole thing kind of fun.

Danny had shoved the pile of his clothes at her and pointed at various things in his room she wasn't allowed to touch while he was out flirting and kissing and doing god-knows-what with his girlfriend tonight.

"I'm already grounded until next year, but it's our sixth month anniversary. If my parents catch me out again I'm doomed." He had pleaded with her, "Please switch with me, just for tonight. It'll be fun."

"Why not just bring Sam here?" Dani had asked him, hand on her very womanly hip. In the last year she had actually grown curves, much to Danny's chagrin. Although she had quickly caught up to him in height. They were roughly the same size. Danny was still willowy and thin, although there were softly defined muscle where he was sure to fill in in the next year or so. It could work. Actually, of course it would work. They were clones and Danny's parents were absolutely clueless.

"Because." Danny griped, "It's family game night. I can't subject Sam to that kind of torture on a _regular_ night, much less our anniversary."

"Its only a six month anniversary." Dani picked at her nails, "That, like, doesn't even count."

Danny's hand clenched on his beanie. He looked about ready to argue the point when he was interrupted.

"Danny, honey!" Maddie's voice called from downstairs, "Clue or Monopoly?"

"Clue!" Danny shouted.

"Neither!" Dani shouted.

They both glared at each other.

"What was that?" Maddie asked, "Is Sam up there with you?"

"Nevermind." Danny called down to his mother, "You pick."

Danny shoved the beanie on Dani's head as she leveled him with her grumpiest of grumpy frowns.

"I know, I know." He told her, "Thanks."

"Whatever." She muttered and watched as he shifted and flew out the window, leaving her alone to kick his things around and poke at her squished breasts.

Dani sighed, spinning and looking at herself in his mirror. If you looked close enough you could see her frame underneath his baggy t-shirt and blue jeans. She was certain that someone like Sam or Tucker wouldn't be fooled. At least, not after closer inspection.

Dani spun slowly, before peering at her own face. It was moments like this that she couldn't help but feel a pang of unease and almost sadness at the realization she really was just another Danny Fenton.

"But Danny doesn't have these." She grinned, batting her long eyelashes and observing her curves for a second.

She spun away from the mirror and walked around his room, trying to mimic the way Danny Fenton usually meandered. His lazy, slightly uncoordinated, and slouched gait.

She coughed a few times and attempted to speak like him, lowering her voice an octave.

"I'm Danny and I'm just a dumb teenage boy." She told her reflection, "I'm too much of a pussy to just tell my parents I would rather bone my girlfriend than have family game night."

"Danny?" There was a swift knock on the door making Dani jump out of her skin. She had been having too much fun making fun of Danny she had forgotten that this whole night involved much more than peering at her own reflection.

"Uh-" She squeaked, before shaking her head and forcing her voice lower, "Hang on one second I'm- changing- or something-"

She turned back to the mirror and shoved the bits of her hair that were falling out back into the beanie. After a moment of looking determinedly back at her own face she gathered up the courage to open the door.

"Honey-" Maddie looked down at her quizzically, "You're still wearing the same clothes."

"I know." Dani responded, wracking her head for an excuse, "I own like fifty of these shirts. _Duh,_ mom."

Maddie stared at her for a long moment, hand still on the doorknob. Dani felt her face start to heat up and the urge to turn and run almost compelled her to tear off the hat and rat on Danny while simultaneously beg for forgiveness. But, just when beads of sweat started to drip in between Dani's very constricted and very female breasts, Maddie gave her a large smile.

"No hats indoors, Danny. You know that."

"I'm cold." Dani retorted.

Maddie's smile faltered for a moment and a look of concern passed across her face before she seemed to drop the argument with a shrug.

"Alright, well, you ready for game night?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." Dani muttered.

"What's that, sweetheart?"

"I said- uh- let's do this!" Dani forced enthusiasm into her voice, still struggling to keep it lower.

x

Dani fidgeted where she was sitting on the floor, staring across the coffee table at Jazz Fenton who was watching her with curiosity.

"What's with the hat?" Jazz asked breezily, gathering up the money from the Monopoly box and starting to count them out, passing them along the table. Dani was watching her set up the game with trepidation.

"It's a fashion thing." She told Jazz, "Obviously you wouldn't understand."

"Danny be nice to your sister." Maddie told her, but it was said automatically, almost like she hadn't even heard what Dani had said, just that they had been bickering.

Dani peered at the board in front of her and frowned. Being basically locked up for much of her formative years she had never actually played Clue - or Monopoly. Or any game for that matter. This was going to be interesting. She was a quick learner, but this might just be impossible.

"Fudge!" Jack boomed, carrying a plate of said candy before he settled to the right of Jazz. Maddie was on Jazz's left.

"Man, the whole family's here. We've really missed you at these game nights, my boy." Jack remarked, slipping a heavy arm around Dani's shoulder and pulling her closer into him. Dani felt immensely uncomfortable. For some reason lying to Jack felt like a horrendous sin. Dani looked up at Jack's face and knew exactly why Danny had a hard time telling his father that he didn't want to do things with him anymore. It would be like kicking a puppy.

"Why - I remember when you beat me at chess for the first time-" Jack trailed off, eyes growing misty.

"He beat you when he was eight." Jazz snorted, "You're not much of a chess player, Dad."

"Or maybe I'm just a genius." Dani couldn't help but say.

Jazz laughed as if that was the funniest thing she had ever heard. Dani felt a wave of anger roll through her, but battled it back.

Dani reached over for the fudge and shoved a big piece into her mouth to give her sharp tongue something to do besides give away her cover. Jazz's eyebrow raised and she paused where she was still passing out money.

"Didn't know you liked fudge, Danny." She noted. There was a strange threat in her voice. Maddie and Jack paused and looked over at the two of them.

Danny didn't like fudge? What the hell? How could he not like fudge? Everyone liked fudge! Hell this whole freaking family was obsessed with it!

Dani froze, before making a face and spitting it out into her hand.

"Ew, gross! That was fudge?" She exclaimed, "I thought it was..." She struggled for another food that could pass as fudge and came up dry, "Not fudge!"

And with that Dani got up from the table and ran for the kitchen.

She couldn't do this. They may look the same but they were polar opposite people! Well, maybe not polar opposites, but they definitely weren't the same.

Dani shoved the rest of the fudge back into her mouth and chewed vigorously, so stressed that it started to expand in her dry mouth until she could barely swallow it.

"Danny?"

Dani spun to look up at Jazz who was peering down into her face critically.

"I have to say. It's kind of weird to know that Danny would make a pretty hot girl."

"Whateryou-alking'bout?" Dani flinched back away from Jazz's scrutiny, still struggling to swallow the fudge.

"You're not Danny, are you?"

_"-Awww Maddie, but I wanted to be the shoe. You can be the iron."_

"Uhhhhh..." Dani had nothing.

_"-The iron?! The IRON? What are you trying to say, Jack?!-"_

"You're Danielle, right? Danny told me about you."

Dani couldn't help but nod.

_"-Nothin' sweetums! Just that you're so strong and resilient, like an iron-"_

"You look so much like him." Jazz stated softly, almost in wonder. Dani couldn't help but level a glare at her.

"Yeah, but I'm _not_ him." She snapped, irritated at the constant comparison, at the constant reminder of her clone status, before realizing that she had just admitted exactly what she had been trying to avoid all night. "I mean!" She struggled, backtracking. Her voice cracked, womanly, high-pitched, "I mean!" She repeated, lower.

"Relax." Jazz put a hand on her shoulder, "I'm not going to tell."

Dani blinked.

"You're not?"

"Please." Jazz rolled her eyes, "I keep so many of Danny's secrets, what's one more? Besides. I know it's their anniversary. I had expected Danny to just not show, but this was even more childish of him."

"Yeah..." Dani trailed off guiltily, looking down at her - Danny's - red sneakers, "But..."

Dani looked up mischievously at Jazz as she leaned forward and whispered, "Not gunna lie, it's kinda fun."

"Jazz! Danny! Get back here. Let's start the game!"

"Let's see how good you are at Monopoly." Jazz smirked, "Danny's absolute trash."

Dani felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Actually... I've never played before."

Jazz stared at her like she had grown a second head.

"Kids!" Maddie bellowed.

Jazz shrugged, a wicked gleam in her eye, "Well, this won't be too bad then. You'll probably be just as good as Danny if not better."

Dani couldn't help but let out a belt of laughter at that, thinking that Jazz and her were far more similar than her and Danny.

Jazz gave her hand a soft squeeze before moving back out of the kitchen. As she passed by she gave a soft whispered,_ Danny's always the hat,_ before she rejoined the family in the living room.

Dani joined them feeling a little less overwhelmed. As she sat back down at her place and reached over to grab the hat token off of the table Jazz gave her a small smile.

"Let's get this show on the road." Jack announced.

Dani grew quiet, watching in rapt attention as Jack began the game. It seemed simple enough. Toss the dice thingys. Move however many spaces. Buy the thingy, get a card.

Jazz counted the figures deftly, handing her mother back some change and the Connecticut Avenue card.

Dani took the die and rolled two fours. Copying the rest of the family, she purchased Vermont Avenue.

"Danny." Maddie warned, "Don't test your mother."

Dani tried to not look as confused as she felt, uncertain as to how she had ruffled Maddie's feathers. She had no clue what these cards even did, much less the point of the whole game. She assumed the point was to get the most money. That seemed to be the goal of life in general. But, how exactly these cards were going to do that, she didn't know.

"Doubles, Danny. Lucky you, you get to roll again." Jazz was looking at her pointedly.

Dani shot Jazz a grateful look, before rolling once again.

The game proceeded in much the same way. Once in a while Dani would come across a rule or land in a spot that no one else had landed before her. Jazz would always swoop into the rescue, seamlessly explaining the rule, but doing so in a nagging know-it-all tone that seemed to be pretty much normal behavior.

"I _know_ Jazz." Dani would tell her, rolling her eyes, "Duh of course."

It was about halfway through that Dani truly understood the game. It was also halfway through that she began to decimate the Fenton family. She ruthlessly traded and built up an empire around two of the corners making it impossible to get around the board once without forking over hundreds of dollars. Jazz was no longer helping her.

"How are you suddenly so good at this!?" Maddie asked as she forked over her Connecticut Avenue.

"Luck." Dani grinned a lethal cheshire grin that was entirely too evil to be on Danny Fenton's face, "I guess I'm just _super lucky_ tonight."

Dani possessed a mean competitive streak that Danny lacked. She knew this streak could potentially blow her cover, but she couldn't help it. She had to win. She felt as if she was constantly at war, constantly fighting, always out to prove herself. This was no different. She wasn't just a clone. She wasn't just Danny. She was her own person! She was every bit as impressive as him- if not more so!

Jack and Maddie were bankrupt by the last third of the game. Jazz and her were dueling it out for first and second place. In the end Jazz won, but not without a great deal of struggle.

"Let's play again. Best two out of three." Dani was already saying, even as she gave Jazz the rest of her money and assets.

"Oh no you don't." Jazz told her, starting to clean up the table.

"Mom? Dad?" Dani looked up at the two of them. As the names left her lips she felt a horrible emptiness fill her. It hadn't hit her until that moment. She had been so wrapped up in the game. But, for just an hour, she had felt like part of a family. Like she had a home. Like she had parents that cared for her and a sibling to fight with. Like she belonged.

"Nevermind." She whispered, looking down at her fingertips before she rubbed the back of her neck, "I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

Jazz watched her curiously as Dani got up from the table and moved up the staircase. Unknowingly Dani had perfected Danny's slumped lumbering gait as she slithered, depressed, up the banister.

"Well, what got into him?" Maddie wondered as he looked at her husband.

"Probably the whole grounding thing." Jack told her, "Danny said it's him and Sam's anniversary tonight... I told him he was still grounded." He sounded actually remorseful, thinking back on his decision.

Jazz watched her parents as she grabbed up the hat token from the table and placed it back into the box.

"We can't just bend the rules here and there, Jack." Maddie told her husband, as ever, the law enforcer of the house.

"Yeah, but remember when we were young, Mads?" Jack took a bite of fudge, face troubled, "Remember when I snuck out to see you, even though I was grounded?"

"And I'm sure your parents weren't pleased."

"That's what I'm saying." Jack told her, swallowing, "Danny could have sneaked out. The kids a pro at it. But, he respected our wishes. He stayed. I think we should cut him some slack."

Maddie sighed, hands on hips, staring through glinting goggles at her husband.

"Alright, fine. You're such a softy." She told him, waving her hand as she started to clean up the living room.

Jack perked up.

"I'll go tell him!"

"Tell him this is_ just for tonight_. And _only_ because its their anniversary. And _only_ as a reward for his good behavior." Maddie warned him.

"Dad! Wait-" Jazz got up suddenly from the table, but Jack was already bounding up the stairs to Danny's room.

x

When Dani had returned to Danny's room she was near tears. In a fit of rage she kicked his English book, sending it spinning across the floor.

"Hey." A voice to her right intoned, annoyed, "Don't kick my stuff."

"Danny?" Dani froze, watching as Danny Phantom materialized from near his closet door. "What are you doing here?"

"Ehh..." Danny rubbed the back of his neck before running a hand through his hair, "I figured I wasn't really being fair to you - or my family. Namely my dad. Besides, Sam said we could just celebrate the anniversary when I'm un-grounded. Whenever that will be."

Dani frowned.

"How long have you been here?" She accused.

"I just got back." He told her, before seeing her disbelieving face, "I swear! Ok, ok fine. I came back and watched you totally kill everyone at Monopoly." He was grinning, but his grin started to fade off his face when he saw the glimmer of nearly-shed tears in Dani's eyes.

"What's wrong?" He asked, drifting closer to her, suddenly unsure. Danny was never good in the face of crying girls. He never knew what to say. Part of him was hoping Dani wouldn't make him have to figure it out.

"Nothing." Dani deflected, bristling. She blinked rapidly, "I just got some of your ego in my eye."

Danny raised an eyebrow.

"How can you not like fudge?" She asked him suddenly, bewildered.

"What?" Glowing green eyes blinked. Danny opened his mouth to retort but at that exact second the door handle twisted and they both turned to stare as nearly a half second later Jack Fenton barged into the room.

Dani stood still, in shock, awaiting what was sure to be chaos. But, instead Jack walked calmly over to her and placed a large hand on her shoulder.

"Son, we need to talk." He told her.

Dani peered up at him before wildly looking around the room, seeing Danny had all but vaporized. Jack must not have seen him whatsoever.

"There's this thing called knocking." Dani told Jack dryly, "It's where you take your fist and you hit it against the door a few times, you know, just in case someone wants to know you're about to barge in. I don't know how popular it was back in your day, but it's-"

Jack cut her off.

"So... your mother and I have been thinking."

Dani let herself get led to Danny's bed. She was too afraid to look Jack Fenton in the eye this close. Certainly Danny's father could recognize that this was not his son? Danny and her looked almost identical, but her face was barely thinner, her lips fuller, eyelashes thicker.

"About what?" She prompted, hoping to get this talk over with.

"About what you asked earlier tonight. About hanging out with Sam. And well - we know how much you want to see her, but you were a great sport tonight anyways."

Dani hoped Danny was still in the room for this, just so he could feel the proper amount of guilt at tricking his own parents.

"So we've decided that, just for tonight, you're off the hook." Jack gave Dani a big grin. Dani couldn't help it, she gave him a weak smile back. It was contagious.

"Really?" She asked him, hope in her voice. Maybe she could just walk straight out the door like none of this ever happened.

"Really. But, first we gotta go over a few things."

"What kind of things?"

"You know." Jack shifted uncomfortably. Dani looked up at him the, watching with confusing as Jack cleared his throat several times.

"No, I don't know."

"Guy stuff, Danny!" Jack told him, "Don't make me say it!"

Dani heard something fall off of Danny's desk in surprise, but she was too busy being mortified to look. Oh dear god. Jack wasn't about to give her _the talk_, was he?

"You don't have to say it!" She told him, voice squeaking, "Really - neither of us have to say it. It's totally cool to _not say anything at all._"

But Jack was still talking, plowing through it like if he stopped at any point he would spontaneously combust.

"I know that you and Sam are pretty serious, and when a young woman and a young man are... attracted... to each other..."

Dani had buried her face in her palms.

"...Things sometimes happen... things that you feel like you can't control..."

"Oh my god." Dani groaned.

"...So I just want to know that you two are being safe and..."

"Stop." Dani could feel herself sinking through this bed. She looked down at her legs to make sure she didn't actually start sinking through the bed.

Jack had broken out in to stammering nonsense. He reached in his pocket and drew something out, placing it in Dani's hand resolutely.

"Go forth, my son." He told Dani, holding her by her shoulders, "You are freed."

He then proceeded to run out of Danny's room and slam the door behind him. Dani was certain she would never look at Jack the same way ever again. She looked down at her hands, seeing three condoms in them. With a disgusted noise she threw them at Danny's bedside table.

"Dani-" Danny had materialized in the corner of his room again, looking very much like he wanted to hide. "I am-"

"I hate you." Dani told him.

"-So so _so sorry._" He finished weakly, but was grinning despite himself, "Your face right now- oh man."

"I'm glad you're amused." Dani told him, ripping off his beanie and throwing it at him. It passed through his chest and hit the back wall.

"C'mon." Danny regained some self-control from where he was doubled over laughing. He landed on his feet and with a quick snap of light transformed back into Fenton. They stood face to face - mirror images. "I watched you down there playing Monopoly. You were having a good time."

"Yeah." Dani admitted shyly as she tried to get rid of her horrid hat hair, "Maybe. A little."

Danny raised an eyebrow, staring at her.

"Ok, fine." She felt like she was giving him a present or something at her admission, "I had fun. Okay? Are you happy?"

"Not entirely, but it'll do."

"It was nice. Feeling like..." She paused, for a moment unsure if she should say it, but it tumbled out of her lips, voice soft, "Feeling like part of a family."

Danny's face sobered instantly as he watched her. Dani avoided his gaze, kicking absently at the air and shoving her hands into Danny's jeans pockets.

"Hey." Danny told her softly, "I saw you tonight. You were just as much a part of this family as anyone I know."

Dani shook her head a little at him, but Danny continued onward.

"Fortunately or unfortunately for you..." He tugged her long hair until she was forced to look up into his eyes, to see the genuine truth ringing in them. "You will _always_ be a part of my family."

x

x

x

I need to write Dani more often. This was a great time.


	7. Dueling Pom-Poms

**Dueling Pompoms  
**_Warning: Paulina x Star_

x

The day Paulina Sanchez transferred to Casper High Star didn't know that she had just met her soon to be inseparable partner-in-crime. In fact, she had hated every part of her from her luscious curly hair to her manicured pink toenails the moment Paulina had the nerve to lift her foot right up over her head into a scorpion without even dropping a pom pom. Their first two months had been war. Full of name-calling and rumor-starting. They were civil about it, of course, ever ladies. But they had toed the line short of ripping hair. Star had immediately seen Paulina as a threat to her authority as cheer captain and lead popular girl. A threat that needed to be vanquished.

So when had everything changed? When had they gone from fierce rivals to friends? There wasn't an exact answer, but it was sometime between the hundreds of hours spent on the road together during cheer season, the shared hair scrunchies, and the realization that they were both not who they outwardly projected.

Star wasn't really a bimbo just like Paulina wasn't really a bitch (despite all of Star's attempts to categorize her as a one).

They both had roles to play at Casper High and reputations to uphold. Tests to fail, tutors to make out with, trophies to win, parties to attend, jocks to crush on. There were only a few roles an attractive girl could fill in high school without disrupting the fragile ecosystem. Star had learned early on to hide her own intelligence if she wanted to have any friends. No one liked a girl that was stunning _and_ smart. Paulina had come to the same conclusion. There must have been a moment when they had really looked at each other and saw a reflection of themselves. And it had perhaps been at that moment that they had seen a potential ally in a world that loved to imprint expectations upon them. Someone with whom they could be their true selves around.

After that point they had summersaulted into friendship that had quickly leapt into sacred best-friendship. Together they captained the cheer team. Together they ran Casper High. Everything they did- eat, drink, party - they did together. The two grew so close that they could sense if the other was sad - even from miles away. An indomitable duo. Star the base; Paulina the flyer.

Star was one of the only people that knew Paulina had been in love before, at fifteen, to an older entrepreneur that had promised her the world. He had torn her naive heart out and shredded it into bloody ribbons, sticking what was left on a spike as a warning. A warning that she should never trust someone with her love so willingly ever again.

Paulina was the only one that knew how Star had been the target of many unwanted advances throughout her life. How her blonde hair and slender frame had attracted more than just catcalls and prying eyes. How Paulina's territorial shielding of Star was justified.

Despite their friendship they still competed with each other. They were both vain and selfish and insecure in many ways (they were immature _teenage girls)_ but they were each other's glue in a world determined to overlook them.

Of course when their best-best-friendship started to change, yet again, into something deeper Star couldn't exactly say. Their sleepovers would consist of brushing each other's hair, watching Friends re-runs, and cuddling next to each other in Paulina's bed, often drifting to sleep spooned protectively in the other's arms. Star had always admired beauty. As had Paulina. Together they admired each other's manipulative cunning and curves.

Maybe it all started that one time Dash had dared Star to take a gummy out of Paulina's mouth at a party. The two of them had been tipsy on peach vodka. Dash had watched, jaw unhinged, as Star had grabbed Paulina by her delicate chin. The hispanic girl had dangled the gummy worm in-between brilliant white teeth, lips quirking maddeningly, curiosity in her forever half-lidded green eyes. As Star leaned in she was hit with the smell of Paulina's perfume and her own, together, always. They were so inseparable even their perfume commingled. Star had made a show of it for the boys, running a hand along Paulina's tanned shoulder as she locked lips and stole the gummy away. She realized only afterwards that the kiss hadn't just been part of their act. She had enjoyed the gentle press of Paulina's lips; the safety and dependability of her presence.

Neither of them had acknowledged that kiss the next morning. It was just one of those things. Like cuddling and sharing straws. Innocent in nature unless you looked too hard into it. Although, they both knew Dash would think back to that moment of the two of them over and over again when he was lonely in his room.

Paulina and Star loved to tease men into apes. They made a game out of it. There was points and everything (Paulina was currently winning, but not for long if Star had any say in it).

How many boys could you get to ask you to prom? How many flowers could you get in a month? Who could get a boy to buy them the most expensive dinner? How much homework could you get Mikey to do for you with the lure of a blush? Just how wide did you have to swing your hips to get Foley to upgrade your computer for you? What could a wink do to Kwan's football game? To Fenton's coordination? What was the power of a captivating giggle; the bite of a lip; the touch of a hand to a lower back?

Dash, Kwan, Danny, Tucker, Mikey... boys were all the same. They all crumbled under the assault of an attractive girl's attention. Paulina and Star were so busy teasing all the boys of Casper High they hadn't noticed when they had started dating each other. They hadn't realized they had been entangling themselves with the very same twine they used to tie boys around their little fingers.


	8. The First Fight

**The First Fight**

* * *

_This is a deleted scene from Gravity &amp; Other Unreliable Things. This was meant to be an interlude but I ended up choosing another route. I really like parts of this, however._

* * *

"What are _you_ doing here, Fenton?"

I looked up as Valerie Grey sat down next to me on the bench outside of the councilor's office. Her dark brow was raised dubiously. Despite the loaded question she gave me a soft smile.

"What about you?" I countered.

Valerie shrugged, glancing up at the ceiling for a moment before looking down at her hands, bangles jangling softly.

"Well, if you must know, my mom passed away a few years ago."

I instantly felt like a complete asshat.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. That's rough." I mumbled, unsure of what to say. Valerie shrugged again and swatted her long curly hair back.

"I thought everyone here knew. What with all the gossiping."

"I'm not really one for gossip."

"You still haven't answered my question." Valerie wasn't going to let me out of this one. I turned and looked at her seriously for a long moment.

"I died last year and now I'm a ghost." I told her, curious for her reaction. We stared at each other, suspended. I smelled her sudden unease as she watched me. Her eyes searched mine as she tried to see if I was joking or not. I let her squirm for a few moments longer, and then I laughed. She laughed nervously with me for a long moment before they became genuine gales of giggles; she actually wiped her eyes with her sleeve; the tension all but evaporated.

"Good one." She snorted, "I didn't know you were funny, Fenton."

"Danny." I corrected, "I have my moments. And if you must know my sister _in-sis-ted_ I talk to a shrink." My tongue clucked out the syllables in annoyance, "It has something to do with the absences and the dropped beakers."

Valerie nodded and leaned back against the brick wall. She looked like she's was going to say something else before the door opened and Paulina stormed out of the room. I blinked and watched as she spun idly, as if dazed. Something was off. Paulina was usually aglow with bubbliness. It's what attracted me to her in the first place; it was delicious. Instead she looked like a drowned kitten. There were tears glimmering in her eyes. I had the distinct feeling that she wasn't going to be a pretty crier.

"Paulina, are you alright?" Valerie asked, concerned.

"I'm fine!" Paulina snapped as she bared her teeth, "Leave me alone."

She whirled down the hallway leaving only her perfume behind.

Suddenly a young woman's head stuck out from inside the door. She glanced down at a sheet of paper and then to me. I was sitting in stunned silence, looking at where Paulina had twirled down the hallway.

"Danny?" She asked, "Come in."

I got up nervously, shooting Valerie a look before I closed the door behind me.

The first thing I noticed was that the office was freezing. Not that the cold bothered me much anymore, but I frowned as a shiver raced through me, my own breath crystalizing in front of my face.

"Sit down, sit down."

I read the plaque on her desk: Mary Hills.

"I'm Miss Hills." She extended a hand, red fingernails glinting in the low light. I shook it as I sat across from her, taking in the room. I'd never been in here before. The space was dark and empty with a single desk and two chairs. Her desk had papers strewn all over it. Student's files open for display. There was a vase with a single red rose. Looking at it made me uneasy for some reason. It had taken a lot of threatening for Jazz to even get me close to this place. What good was a shrink when you couldn't tell them what was really going on? Although, hopefully this would get Jazz off of my back for a while.

"Do I get some sort of slip or receipt or doctors note or something?" I asked, already thinking of obtaining proof of my visit.

Miss Hills laughed a delighted laugh. I frowned. That wasn't supposed to be a joke.

"So, Danny." She crossed her hands and her legs. She looked to be in her mid-thirties. Curvy, brown hair cut unflatteringly above her shoulders. Her sense of style was lacking as well. The two piece suit she had wrestled her way into looked like the ones women used to wear in the 1990's to be taken seriously in the world of the dot com boom. Her eyes were strange. They were a bright green. I stared at them as they gleamed unnaturally in the light, almost like they were glowing. Her aura itself was weird as well. Not that I really knew much about them, considering I only acquired the ability to feel them a year ago, but I'd never encountered one like hers. It was cold and guarded, almost like she knew I could read her and she was protecting herself.

"Your sister tells me you've been troubled lately." She began, "That you've been distant and even aggressive."

I felt a surge of anger rush through me, but kept my voice cool.

"She said that?"

"She's worried about you."

"She worries about everything." I shrugged, "But that's her problem, not mine."

"You're right." Hills leaned forward a little, "So tell me, Danny, why do you feel the need to push her away?"

"I'm a teenage boy." I said blandly, "The last thing I want to do is hang out with my sister."

"You're deflecting." Hills noted, scribbling in her pad, "You do that often."

I felt the defensive thing inside me coil incessantly. I tried to quell it as I took in a deep breath. This past year had been an intense exercise in self-control. Jazz was right, I _had _been more aggressive ever since the accident. There's parts of me that are more primal, that don't use logic based in any sort of human realm. These darker parts of me I didn't yet fully understand, nor did I want to understand as they scared even myself.

Hills was watching me curiously.

"You look exhausted, Danny. Like your hiding something." She said, getting up smoothly and resting a hand on my shoulder. Her touch was cold and dangerous. I flinched away from it instantly as if shocked.

"Your family is full of ghost hunters." Hills pulled a file out off of her desk as she sat down on the edge of the oak. She had a file on me? But I'd never even been here before. I tried not to feel entirely creeped out. Her heels clicked together as she ran a fingernail down the list. My heightened sense of hearing made me grit my teeth at the sound of her nail against the paper. It felt like small needles were being poked down my spine.

"Your mother and your sister are brilliant." Hills continued, either not sensing my unease or not caring enough to stop, "Jazz currently has a 4.0 and is set to graduate early, Valedictorian."

"I know." I gritted sarcastically, "I am, after all, part of the family."

"But you don't really fit in, do you?"

I glanced up at her, shocked.

"What?"

"Well, you've nearly failed every science class you've been in. You're a little better in English, but not by much. And you have no interest in ghost hunting."

"I don't need to be smart or a ghost hunter to fit in." I told her, although her words stung. I knew I wasn't stupid. Sure, I probably wasn't as smart as my mother or my sister, but my declining grades were a result of my new double life, not lack of intelligence or effort. And little did she know I _did_ hunt ghosts - all the time. Abet, not terribly dangerous ones. Lesser ghosts that made the mistake of crossing into my territory.

"Of course not, Danny." Hills clapped her hands together, "That's what _I _believe, but I don't think _you_ believe that."

I was confused. My head hurt. I shook it for a moment, trying to sort out where this conversation was even going. If anything I just felt even shittier.

"I don't know." I mumbled, "I just haven't… figured out what I'm good at yet."

Hill's eyes studied me cooly.

"All the absences, the tardies, falling asleep in class, the broken beakers…"

"What's your problem?" I snapped, interrupting her tangent of my failings.

"It's better to let it all out. This is a safe place. You can tell me anything. Whatever it is, it's affecting your friends and your family, not to mention your performance at school. It's obvious something is wrong and your sister just wants you to get the help you need."

It didn't feel like a safe place, but I bit my tongue.

"So what is it? Drugs? Bullying?"

I shook my head, feeling exhausted all the sudden, too tired to try and defend myself against any of her accusations.

"I can't tell you." I whispered, voice hoarse. I surprised myself, as I found myself more emotional than I should be. Although, my emotions had been all over the place ever since the incident. They fluctuated wildly in accordance with whoever I was around. I was getting better at regulating it, at trying to define boundaries so I knew which emotions were mine and which were my friends - but sometimes things got muddied. Right now Hills felt like a poisonous leech sucking all the life right out of me.

She grinned in triumph, before masking it with concern.

"_Well…" _She dragged out the word nauseatingly, "At least you admit that there _is_ something you're hiding." She said kindly. I realized only afterwards how horrible it felt to be duped, conned. Why did I say that? I shouldn't have said that! I clenched my teeth down on my tongue as if that could take it back.

"Danny, I really think we should talk again. We made good progress today." She wrote on a pad of paper and handed it to me. I turned it over, seeing her scrawled name on the card and an appointment time for tomorrow.

"Maybe next time you can tell me what's really on your mind."

She opened the door and as I stepped outside I realized just how dark it was in her office. For a long second I stood in the hallway, card in hand, staring down at it in misery.

"Danny?" Valerie was still sitting on the bench, but she was getting up to move into the office. I wanted to tell her not to go in there, but my voice was lost. Hills was already herding her inside.

x

"You look terrible." Tucker looked up to see my glare and tacked on a, "No offense."

"What did that councilor say to you?" Sam asked, "Tucker and I have a session with her at one."

I tried to think back, but realized I couldn't think of a specific thing she had said. The whole session was a blur in my memory. All I knew was how it had made me feel. Right now I felt strung out. Withered. Like a grape that had been left out in the sun for too long or a heroin addict between hits.

"Why are you two going to a councilor?" I asked.

The pair of them glared at each other. They had been fighting all week and for the past few days had barely said a word to each other. Meat versus veggie. Trucks versus hybrids. Spoons versus forks. Everything turned into full on war. I realized only after I said it that my question was dumb.

"Isn't that, like, couple's counciling?"

Sam blushed.

"You don't have to be a couple to work out differences with a councilor." She admonished. Her embarrassment washed over me and I breathed it in, starved for the feel of her.

"Danny!"

I froze, smelling Jazz's pep from a million miles away, bounding down the hallway. She paused when she saw my face, before uncertainty trickled off her.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

I must really look like death.

"Your shrink made him even _more _depressed than normal." Sam accused.

I felt my hackles raise at the insinuation that I was ever depressed in the first place, but I didn't have the energy to argue. Instead, I let the comment pass. My constant anger at my sister started to boil again at the sight of her. I knew she was trying to help but all she ever did was make things worse.

"Proof." I hissed at Jazz, brandishing the card with tomorrow's appointment slot. Jazz grabbed it out of my hand.

"Wow. You actually went. You look…."

Jazz's face was suddenly looking down into mine, peering with the same critical look Hills had given me. I felt like a freak, like she was picking me apart, studying me. I unexpectedly felt an incredible urge to protect myself from her prying eyes.

The thing inside me lashed out before I could stop it and I shoved her away. She stumbled back and nearly fell at the force of my push, hurt shining in her eyes, but for some reason I didn't care - _I should care_ \- but I didn't care. I felt numbed.

"Danny-" Sam grabbed my arm to prevent me from doing anything else, but I violently shrugged her off of me.

"Stay out of this, Sam." I growled.

"What's _wrong with you? _That hurt." Jazz accused, rubbing her arm.

"Nothing is wrong with me!" I very nearly exploded, "Why does everyone think there's something wrong with me?! Or that I'm depressed?_ I'm not depressed!_"

Jazz, Tucker, and Sam grew silent as I panted. The lights above us flickered and Jazz glanced up, distracted for the moment.

"Danny, calm down." Tucker's hand hovered over my shoulder and I tried to obey, knowing I was about three seconds from blowing my cover with glowing eyes.

Suddenly Sam's hand was in mine and the tension flooded out of me, leaving me even more drained than before. The lights stopped buzzing.

Jazz stared, uncertain, as she shivered across the hallway. I could smell her fear and I deflated a little at the thought. Something _was_ wrong with me; she was right. This was just further proof. I needed to get a grip. I knew I had a short temper, but it usually took more to rile me up this badly. Ever since seeing that councilor my emotions felt like they had been taken to a blender. Why was I so angry all the time?

"Jazz, I'm sorry." I tried weakly.

Jazz said nothing for a long moment, before she straightened her sweater and tugged at the long strands of her hair. Without another word she spun on her heel and marched down the hallway with considerably less pep than before.

"That was pretty brutal." Tucker commented from my left.

Sam gazed at me silently, and while she didn't say anything the accusation in her eyes was deafening.

I groaned, rubbing my forehead with my hands, my head aching. I felt an inexplicable urge to follow Jazz and take all that pep for myself. Or goad Sam and Tucker into another one of their fights just to be around all that emotion. I shook my head instead, quashing back the instinct. Those weren't _my _thoughts; that wasn't what _I_ wanted.

Already a year had passed since the incident and I still had no clue what I was doing. Each time I passed into the in-between I learned a little more about my condition, but to be honest I was making this up as I went along and struggling everyday to control whatever passenger had taken up residence in my mind. It wasn't so much another sentiment being as an addiction. Instincts. I found myself doing things without realizing, and reacting to things before fully processing what I'm doing. This was just another example of that.

"I'm fine." I assured them, hearing the unspoken question. The pair of them looked at me warily. There was a shrill sound as the bell rang and suddenly the hallway filled with students, but strangely enough there was no noise but the dejected shuffling of feet.

The three of us looked around, watching as ashen-faced teens gathered books that look entirely too heavy and dragged themselves along to their next class. They all but slithered across the floor. The air that usually vibrated with the force of all that teen energy was stagnant.

"...See you at lunch, then?" Sam asked me, obviously sensing something weird was going on, but not sure how to approach the subject.

"Yeah…" I nodded, watching as the two of them moved down the hallway together.

x

By lunch I knew something was definitely wrong.

The cafeteria was dead silent, forks scraping across plastic as students pushed their food around on their plates from one side to the next. I found myself doing the same thing. I was so hungry, but human food was tasteless in my mouth.

There was a loud bang and I looked up, watching as Sam and Tucker shuffled through the double doors to join me at the table. They slumped across from me like rag dolls, faces grey.

_"So?"_ I asked, "How'd it go?"

The pair of them shrugged. They were never this quiet. Ever. Usually they were so loquacious I had to tell them to shut up so I could hear myself over their own arguing.

My eyes narrowed as I took them in. I'd never noticed before… with Paulina and the rest of the students - but I noticed immediately with Sam and Tucker. Their auras were wiped out, depleted. I was certain that if I moved into the ghost world their usual bright beacons would be nothing but flickers.

"I'm not hungry." Tucker pushed his food away from himself, slumping against the table, "I think I'm going to be sick."

"I hate you." Sam told Tucker plainly, "But mostly I just hate myself."

How could a therapist affect them so much? The only person I knew that could take away their life force like this was myself and I actively exercised restraint to avoid doing so. I only took what I needed, always toeing the line of starvation.

"Guys." I tapped the table, "Look around."

Sam paused her self wallowing and pushed her hair out of her face as she glanced at the other students. Tucker kept his head on the table, face green.

"Wow." Sam intoned, chewing on a piece of lettuce demurely, "Did someone die?"

"Maybe." I frowned, pushing my plate away from myself.

Tucker glanced up at that, confusion in his green eyes.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"The councilor." I explained, "She's been here for ten years, right? But, things have never been like this before."

"Hills isn't a ghost, Danny." Tucker muttered, putting his head back down on the table, disinterested once again, "She patted my head when I left. She was completely solid. Creepy - but solid. Just because you're family is obsessed with ghosts doesn't mean everything is ghost-related."

I begged to differ. Man, I was starting to sound like my dad. I shuddered at the thought before refocusing on the problem at hand.

"Did you guys ever have her before?"

"Yeah." Sam grumbled, "My mom made me see her freshman year after finding out that I changed out of her pink clothes into my black ones when I got to school. She wasn't at all like she is now. She was actually helpful back then. She got my mom to stop making me wear frills. The whole thing kinda backfired on her looking back at it now."

"Don't you guys think its kinda weird she all the sudden started sucking at her job?"

Tucker let out a soft snore and I looked over to see he had fallen asleep. I refused to get offended.

Sam was peering at me, curiosity dancing in her eyes. She seemed to be in slightly better shape than Tucker. Probably because she had less insecurities about herself for this ghost to prey on. I was convinced that Hills had to be involved with ghosts. Only ghosts knew how to take human energy for themselves, and only ghosts would have the motivation to do so.

"If she's a ghost she's pretty stupid." Sam grumbled, "Considering she essentially attacked the whole student population in a day. Don't you think that's pretty suspicious? She's just drawing attention to herself."

It made total sense to me, from one addict to another. Not that I could tell Sam that.

I knew how it was almost impossible to stop stealing energy once you started to take it. It was the hardest thing I had ever had to do. It was like jumping out of an airplane with only a sheet as a parachute. It was doubtful you would be able to slow yourself against the iron grasp of gravity. The fact that I was part human was the only thing that stopped me from taking and taking. I still had morals and actual feelings for the humans I stole from, unlike ghosts. Or borrowed from. I liked to lie to myself and say I was only borrowing, even though I never gave any of it back.

"Hills is possessed." As I said it aloud I knew it to be true.

"Well, that would explain the random change in behavior." Sam pushed away her plate as well, not hungry, "But we've never dealt with a possession before."

I shrugged.

"Can't be too hard can it?" Although I was doubtful. This ghost was probably already much more powerful than ever before considering all the energy she had sucked out of this school. I myself still felt weak from my session with her. I was on edge, emotional, touchy, and definitely not completely in control of my undead instincts. The idea that another ghost had the audacity to trespass into _my_ school and hurt _my_ friends was enough to make my hands shake. Most ghosts I had run across had avoided my territory like a plague. The urge to rip this intruder apart with my teeth overwhelmed me, but I forced my face to stay calm.

"You can't just go up and be like 'Oh excuse me. Sorry to bother you, but can you please get out of our councilor?'" Tucker suddenly intoned, his head flopping from one side to the next.

"Why not?"

"Danny this is serious." Sam's face gave me this look that clearly said _'Don't attempt to make any stupid jokes right now or I'll kill you until your fully dead.'_ I doubted she would have the energy or spirit to laugh for at least two weeks. The thought of it made me sad. And then righteously angry. Obsessively angry. Because Sam's laughter was the most pure, rare, and delicious thing I had ever come across.

"Fine, sorry." I amended.

"Can a ghost really do this?" Sam asked me, "Take everyone's spirit like this? All their joy? Their life? Make someone so exhausted they're physically sick?" She pointed at Tucker who still had his head buried in his hands.

"Yes." I answered shortly.

I was peering attentively at the tabletop, terrified that she'd see through me if I looked her in the eye.

"Danny..." Her voice was suddenly soft, leaden with uncertainty and fear, "Can you do that?"

I looked up at her, directly in her eyes, and lied right to her face.

"Of course not."


	9. Against the Storm

**Against the Storm**

Inspired by convos around Danny having an electric core, not an ice core. There's a lotta people to blame for this. LOL. Mainly Becca though.

x

Jazz was peering over the top of her book with narrowed blue eyes at Danny who was vacuuming the rug with religious fervor. Her younger brother was usually holed up in his room until at least three, but here he was cleaning the same rug he had already cleaned two times this morning. Jazz couldn't remember the last time Danny had cleaned _anything_ without mom twisting his arm behind his back, much less cleaned something _three times._

Jazz glanced at the clock. Her brother shouldn't even be awake yet. It was noon. Danny loved to sleep in until like two in the afternoon on Saturdays. Jazz was already keeping a close eye on how much sleep he got, finding it odd that Danny went to bed consistently at ten only to sleep for more than twelve hours. In fact, a lot of Danny's behavior ever since the accident was strange. Jazz had been recording it all in her private journal - diagnosing his sudden mood swings, the secrecy, and general lethargy.

"Your feet, Jazz," Danny chirped, "Your feet."

Jazz lifted her bare feet off of the rug a few inches while Danny swooped underneath her. The vacuum surged in concert with Danny's strange enthusiasm.

"Are you alright?" Jazz asked.

Danny didn't look alright. He looked - if anything - like he had won a coffee drinking contest. His movements were quick and jerky and he kept darting from one task to the next like a rabbit in the face of a wolf.

"Yeah I'm _great_ \- I'm good - I'm cool." He grinned at her, looking crazed. His eyes were absurdly bright, even in the dim light of the living room. His hair looked like he had been shocked with static electricity as it was trying to flee his scalp in every direction possible.

"Why are you saying everything twice?"

"What? I'm not. I didn't."

"You just did."

Danny settled for shaking his head - three times.

"Are you on something?" Caffeine? Adderall? Speed? Cocaine?

_"No."_ Danny glared at her, the force of it enough to make the hair on her neck and scalp stand up. "I'm _fourteen._"

The sky outside rumbled ominously, clouds darkening the room as they descended into a heavy haze around Amity Park. Danny's brief moment of intense concentration on Jazz was broken as his eyes darted out the window. He all but bounced on the balls of his bare feet over to the sill to look hopefully outside.

"Big storm," he told her, clipped.

Jazz shivered.

"Don't be scared." Danny spun to take her in, talking a mile a minute, "It's just a little lightening."

"I'm not scared." Jazz retorted childishly, flipping her book back up to block him from her view. Danny hummed for a long moment. Jazz peered back over the top of her book to look at him. He had his eyes closed and was rocking back and forth. Concern started to wash over her as she watched him, his hands clenching and unclenching, his thin arms reverberating slightly. Something was _wrong._

Just as Jazz opened her mouth to call their mother, the doorbell rang. Danny's eyes instantly flew open and he tore from his spot like an arrow from a bow to the front door.

"Sam," He muttered, "Hey, it's Sam," He called over his shoulder back into the house for whoever was listening. Danny's fingers made quick work of all the deadbolts and soon enough he had ripped the door open to reveal the goth, drenched, on their doorstep.

"Sam. Hey. _Hi_. You're here." Danny looked for all intents and purposes like a puppy in the face of a new toy. His chest was panting to keep up with all of his energy.

Sam peered at him for a long moment, taken off guard by the might of Danny's good mood.

"Hi?" She muttered, "Can I come in? It's kind of pouring out here."

Danny stared at her for a long second before the request registered.

"Oh! Yeah! Of course!" He sidestepped and danced around her as she stomped her way into the house. "I'll just- You're wet- Hang on-" He was suddenly gone, moving deep into the back of the house.

Sam blinked, before looking over at Jazz who had watched the entire exchange from behind her anatomy textbook.

"What's with him?" Sam asked as she peeled her coat off of herself and hung it on the coatrack, along with her dripping wet black umbrella. The goth looked, if possible, even more demure today. Her makeup had melted down her cheeks in the onslaught of rain.

Jazz looked down the hallway Danny had bulleted down moments before.

"I'm not sure…" She told her, "But he's been really..._chipper.._. all morning. He's like the energizer bunny. He cleaned the entire house three times. Mom ungrounded him."

Sam moved to say something else but Danny had already returned, juggling a towel, a cup of Sam's favorite tea, a hair blow dryer, and an extra change of clothes.

"How did you-" Sam started, staring at the cup of perfectly brewed tea.

"Hey that's mine." Jazz hissed, putting two and two together, "I told you to stay out of my room!"

"How was I supposed to clean it then?" Danny turned to her, his blue eyes owlish.

"You-" Jazz struggled, "You _cleaned_ my room?!"

"You're welcome." Danny was attempting to shove all the found items into Sam's hands, "Don't worry I didn't look at anything, okay I kinda looked at a few things, but only _some_ things, and I didn't read any of your journals, I just put them on the shelf-"

"-ow many times do I have to TELL you! You are NOT allowed in my room!-"

"Thanks." Sam was having trouble holding onto all the things at once. She winced when Danny's hand on her arm gave her a sharp static shock, "Uh I don't really need all this though -"

"That's fine - I just-" Danny petered out for a long moment and he stared at Sam, gaze slightly unfocused. She shifted uncomfortably under his attention. There was a distant flash of light from outside that lit the living room for a moment. Jazz yelped a little, shrinking back against the couch cushions. Danny blinked at it and shook his head several times as if to clear it.

"You shouldn't have been out in that - wait - why are you here?" Danny voice was suddenly concerned.

"To study? Remember? Lancer's test on Monday?" Sam wasn't sure how much she liked this new and improved super Danny. The amount of cheer he was radiating was enough to give her cancer.

"Right! Right right _right!_" Danny clucked, "I forgot."

"Maybe right now isn't a good time?" Sam asked hopefully, "I can come back tomorrow?"

"No!" Danny's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Sam winced as another static shock was sent spiraling up her arm. Static shocks shouldn't hurt that badly, "Ah- sorry." Danny noticed her flinch and let go of her. "But you can't leave."

"He's right." Jazz grumbled, "The storm is getting worse. Its not safe for you to go home until after it settles down."

Danny nodded his agreement with unusual vigor.

Jazz was peering hesitantly out the window, her face pale.

"I'll be in my room…" She whispered, gliding off of the couch and up the stairs. Danny and Sam watched her leave. It was only after she had disappeared past the upstairs banister that Danny turned back to Sam and gave her a small grin.

"She's afraid of lightning storms," Danny whispered, only his whisper was more like a hushed shout.

"DANNY YOU MOVED ALL MY THINGS!" Jazz screamed from deep within the house.

Danny ignored her, bounding up the stairs and to his own room before Jazz had the chance to retaliate. Sam followed, abet with much less pep. She still carried all the things Danny had retrieved for her.

As she moved into Danny's room she stared, shocked, at how orderly everything was. The carpet was a pearly white as if he had scrubbed the years of dirt out of it with his bare hands. His room had never looked so nice before. Even the posters that had previously been hanging haphazardly were perfectly straight and gridded, six inches apart from each other along his wall.

Sam frowned as she set the mug of tea down on his bedside table and dumped the extra clothes on his bed.

Danny immediately straightened the mug so it lined up with his alarm clock and took the clothes, disappearing in his closet to put them away.

Sam was left, stunned, standing in his wake.

"Danny?" She questioned softly.

His head poked out from behind the closet door.

"What's going on with you?" Sam grappled with the hair dryer and moved to plug it into the wall socket. Danny's eyes widened and he all but cartwheeled out from his closet.

"Don't-" he managed. Sam's hand paused inches from the socket.

"Why?" Sam plugged it in regardless. Nothing happened. Danny sagged in relief against his back wall.

She turned the dryer on and started to paw at her wet hair strands, allowing the hot air to kiss her cold cheeks. Danny was peering at the machine with thrumming curiosity, entranced by the noise. He fell silent as he watched her, calming somewhat, for a long moment. Sam felt her eyebrow raise as she watched him bonelessly slump along the back wall. When she clicked it off he blinked and instantly sat up straighter. With a small smirk she turned it back on and watched him relax again, like goo, into the sheetrock. Odd. Strange. She turned the device off and Danny, predictably, snapped out of whatever trance he had been in.

"Are you okay?" She couldn't help but almost laugh at him.

"I'm _great._ I'm better than okay." Danny told her brightly, a certain amount of zealous pep in his tone. He was up from where he was sitting, galloping lightly around the room in tight concentric circles. "I feel amazing. This is the best. I'm _psyched._"

Sam was getting dizzy watching him. She pulled the mug of tea into her hands as she studied him. He was glowing faintly, although, the more she watched him race around in circles the more vivid the glow. His eyes were bright balls of light. Sam was suddenly glad that Danny had retreated to his room for the time being. Jazz would freak if she saw him emitting this crackling light. He was almost a blur, gliding, no longer running, around in humming circles. He sounded like a generator. Well, Sam thought to herself, he was _acting_ like a generator. The lights above them flickered up a notch, almost unbearably bright for a moment, and Sam knew it was time to stop whatever this was before Danny shattered all the bulbs in the house.

"Hey-" She stood, "You're gunna make me puke. Stop."

Danny didn't seem to have heard her. Sam was pondering what the effect of tripping him would be, but suddenly he spiraled out of tight formation and slammed into the wall with enough force to rattle his things. Sam gasped, standing up, spilling her tea.

"Danny!"

She moved to grab onto his arm, ignoring the small shock, as he slumped, his chest heaving as he hyperventilated. Had he pushed himself too far? Sam brushed some of his wild hair out of his face, but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were closed and his entire body was vibrating underneath her hands.

"What was that?" Jazz's terrified voice called from across the hallway.

Sam ignored her, shaking Danny a little to try and get him to respond to her.

He moaned. It wasn't a pained moan. It was a moan that made Sam blush. Danny's face was relaxed into a look of pure ecstasy. Underneath the fringe of his dark eyelashes she could see that his eyes had rolled back into his head. Sam felt his limbs go limp in her grasp. Her vision of his face was obscured as there was a sudden blinding flash, lightning bathing the entire city in a violent discharge of energy. Almost immediately soul crushing thunder followed, shaking FentonWorks down to the foundations. It had been a startlingly big bolt that had just hit less than a mile from the city.

Danny was looking at her now, his eyes solid bright neon lime.

"The storm?" Sam asked him, suddenly understanding, "The lightning? It's charging you?"

Danny was nodding so fast he might rattle his brain. In fact, he was rattling so fast that his form was blurred. He was slowly disappearing, vibrating too quickly for Sam's human eyes to detect.

"It feels amazing, astonishing, breathtaking-" He rattled off synonyms.

"How are you getting a D in Lancer's class?" Sam wondered, hardly knowing when Danny had expanded his vocabulary.

"Because I don't go to class." Danny answered for her, getting up and continuing his spinning around the room. His voice became echoey, "I don't do my homework, I don't pay attention, I fall asleep-"

Whatever else Danny was saying was lost as he started to swirl around too quickly for Sam to keep up. She frowned, tapping her black fingernails against the ceramic mug of tea.

"What happens when you overcharge something?" Sam wondered aloud. Almost, as if to answer her question, all of the lightbulbs in the room exploded into a thousand shattered pieces. Sam cried out, ducking her head to shield her face. From the shouts across the hallway and downstairs the rest of the lights in the house had burnt out as well.

They would have been dumped into pitch darkness had Danny not been emitting thousands of watts of glow. As he moved he left a light trail behind him - hardly pausing even after blowing out the house's fuses.

Sam suddenly grew afraid.

"Danny- Danny stop. STOP." She picked her way through the shards of glass as they glittered in Danny's ethereal light.

He obeyed her, somewhat. Sam was surprised to see him in Phantom form, not knowing exactly when he had changed. He was still moving back and forth on his heels, but he was no longer rocketing around the room.

He pressed a hand to his heart and closed his eyes again, giving another weak noise of pleasure before outside a bolt struck and the resounding thunder drummed through the room.

"What if its too much?" Sam asked him, voice shouting over the residual rumbling from outside. Danny's window sounded as if people were banging metal pipes against the pane as the wind howled and the rain pelted against it.

"Too much, it's too much…" Danny whispered, eyes still closed as he panted. His face was flashing between blissful serenity and fear, "Then I have to let some of it go."

There was thundering up the steps and for a moment Sam thought it was just more noise from the storm outside, but suddenly the door to Danny's room shot open and Maddie staggered through the threshold. The sharp beam of a flashlight cut through the darkness. For a half second Sam was certain Danny was caught, but, she wildly looked around to find him gone.

"Sam, honey. Are you okay?" Maddie picked her way delicately through the broken glass that was littering Danny's carpet, "Where's Danny?"

It was a good question. Hell if Sam knew.

"Bathroom." Sam said the first thing that came to her head, "He's been in there for a while. Don't worry. He's fine. You should leave him alone though."

"That last lightning blast must have supercharged the wires." Maddie was telling her as she placed a hand on her shoulder, "Blew out all the fuses and bulbs in the house."

Maddie's goggles were glinting like an insect in the low light. Sam felt as if she was in a horrible scary movie. One that was more hilarious than terrifying. A family, trapped inside their own home during an epic storm.

"Everything will be fine. We have a backup generator downstairs; Jack is hooking it up right now-" Maddie was cut short as another huge streaming bolt of lightning flew past the window. Before it even finished sizzling through the atmosphere the following thunder faithfully followed.

Maddie's hand tensed and the small flashlight wavered.

"This storm is getting too close. Our house has already been struck several times in the past. The Ops Center makes our house higher than all the other buildings in Amity Park. The safest place right now is in the basement." She was attempting to herd Sam out of the room.

"Wait-! I'll wait for Danny and then we'll join you guys." Sam babbled, scrambling for any excuse to not get locked down in the FentonWorks basement with Jazz who was - undoubtedly - pissing herself by now.

"Oh don't worry. I'll wait for him." Maddie's motherly hand was warm on Sam's upper back as she shoved her gently out of Danny's room and into the ominous darkness of the upstairs hallway. You'll be waiting for him for a long time, Sam thought to herself darkly, considering he wasn't actually in the bathroom.

"Here, you go on ahead." Maddie gave Sam an extra flashlight. The weight of it was heavy in her palm. She clicked it on and scanned it across the floor, seeing the glint of shards of lightbulbs all along the walkway. Sam looked behind her shoulder as Maddie moved back into Danny's room. Sam gave it maybe three minutes before Maddie realized Danny wasn't actually in there.

Of course, she could almost hug the woman. Sam now knew exactly where she could find the half-ghost.

Sam hooked a left and made for the stairs up to the Ops Center. She juggled the flashlight between her palms as she shoved the door open and shivered. The Ops Center, despite being an enclosed room, was still significantly colder than the rest of the house due to it's huge windows.

Sam spotted Danny instantly.

"Hey-" She called out to him, barely hearing her own voice over the sound of the thunder from outside.

He spun around and gave her a megawatt grin.

"Hey!" He greeted, "It's working."

"You owe your family a lot of lightbulbs." Sam muttered, before pausing and giving him a strange look, "What's working?"

"I'm redirecting it all." Danny was speaking insanely fast. At that moment there was a rumble and the underside of the cloud closest to them brightened. Sam felt a tang of metal fill her mouth and her heart start to squeeze tight in her chest. The cloud turned a dangerous purple. It was almost beautiful, had Sam not realized that she was about to get struck down. She closed her eyes amidst the blinding flash of light as heat - hotter than anything she had ever felt before - started to rush at her face.

But instead of getting blown apart, Danny made a sudden movement and the lightning swerved, redirecting its feelers towards the High School in the distance. As Sam opened her eyes she watched the bolt touch down somewhere near the football field, the resounding thunder muted.

"What did you do?" Sam asked after she had regained the ability to speak.

"Rerouted it." Danny told her, clipped, his face dark in concentration. "They keep wanting to hit the house - the path of least resistance - but I reroute them - forge a new path - or something...I don't really know-"

"You sure you're not just attracting them all in the first place?" Sam wrapped her arms around her middle and stayed a healthy distance away from him, unsure if he was supercharged enough to hurt her should she grab his skin.

Danny paused, his glittering eyes wide as he took in her question.

He was abruptly close to her, moving in a fast blur. Sam blinked a few times, unsure of what she had just seen. She had just seen over ten different Danny's. All of them had moved towards her along different paths, all of them faint outlines as if he hadn't really been there, before they all had faded to nothing save his primary outline, which had brightened into clarity. Like lightning. He was moving just like lightning. Moving through multiple paths to find the quickest and most efficient one.

"Maybe." He seemed troubled by that thought, "It makes sense."

"Your mother thinks you're in the bathroom."

"Not for long." His face was close to hers. Contained within his irises Sam could see the crackling energy. Even as he stood close to her he was moving. His fingertips were tapping along the black hazmat suit and his hair whipped around in the face of the different electromagnetic charges that the storm was putting out.

"What are you-?" Sam began to ask him, starting to get the feeling that he was about to do something he shouldn't.

His fingertips had her chin suddenly and his lips were upon her's. Sam felt her entire face suddenly go numb. Not from stupid lovey-dovey-ness, but because Danny had literally shocked her face. The muscles of her body went stiff as he sent a soft probing wave of energy through her. Despite herself her heart started to flutter, weak, against his ministrations.

Then, just as swiftly as he had pulled her in, he pulled back.

"Sorry! I didn't- but I _did_ \- Are you alright?" He was pittering piteously, holding his hands to his chest as if he was terrified they would do something without his permission.

"What was that!?" Sam nearly yelled at him, but it came out more like: _Wuh-ss-at?!_ It felt like she had gotten punched in the face with a powerful anesthetic. Her lips could be giant sausages for all she knew. Giant horrible disgusting sausages considering the fact that they were no longer obeying her. With a thread of revulsion she realized she was drooling spit down the side of her chin. She wiped it off quickly, feeling along her face for her nose and lips.

"Oh man-" Danny was chattering. He dissolved into gales of laughter, the sound of which only slightly rivaled the wind outside.

"'Ss _NOT_ funny!" Sam screamed, "M'ips." She pawed at them.

"They're still there. They're fine. You're fine." Danny retreated from her before she could grab him and smack him.

"'ou _kissed_ me!" She accused, pointing a finger at him, quite literally shocked.

Danny was blushing. His blush was enough to light up the entire Ops Center as effectively as fluorescent lights. He started to run in small circles again, letting go of pent up energy as he did so.

"Maybe I _did._" He told her, "Maybe you looked kissable. Maybe I was curious. Maybe I liked it. Maybe _you_ liked it?"

Sam said nothing, eyes narrowed, lips in full pout. She felt certain that this Manson pout was about to rival all other Manson-pouts, for her lips felt as if they were twenty times their size. Her face only served to make Danny laugh harder, however. Her icy cold glare was no longer effective against him without full control of her lips. Her Gothdom, toppled by a kiss from a smart-ass lightning rod!

"Fine." She huffed. Maybe she had. Liked it, that is.

"What's that?" Danny asked her, as thunder deafened them both for a moment.

She was _not_ going to repeat herself to this little brat.

"I said 'our MOM'S GUNNA-" Sam yelled, ignoring how spit was flying out of her mouth as she did so, although, already the feeling was starting to come back to her face.

"Oh right." Danny paused, "My mom. Uh- You should go. Its safer in the basement. Don't worry. I'll figure out how to trick my parents."

Sam nodded, pausing only for a brief second to worry for him, before she left him to his lightening diverting and backed down from the Ops Center, flashlight in hand, to find the rest of the Fentons. As she padded her way onto the second floor hallway she heard Maddie's voice, frantic, in Danny's room.

"Danny?" She was calling, "Danny where are you?"

Sam swallowed guiltily, trying to melt back into the darkness before Maddie saw her. Just as she clicked off her flashlight and started to tiptoe along the wall past the door she heard Danny's voice and she froze, stunned.

"I'm right here. _Geeze mom,_ calm down. Can't a guy have some privacy in this house?"

But he was just-? Sam blinked as Danny rounded the corner out of his room, his mother's hand on his back. His blue eyes caught sight of Sam and he gave her a wink. He had somehow gotten control of the glowing and looked relatively normal by Danny standards. Normal as in human as in not half ghost.

"Sam! I thought you were already downstairs!" Maddie astonished, "Really, you two-"

"What the-?" Sam whispered out of the corner of her mouth as the pair of them were herded down the stairs.

"Duplicate." Danny answered.

Sam stared at him. Or, at this duplicate. Was this actually Danny or just a carbon copy? It looked just like him, though. Danny had never been able to pull this trick off, even after months of trying. The best he had achieved had been four heads. All the power the storm had charged him with must have made this possible. Convenient, Sam thought, as she watched Maddie keep a tight grip on his arm as if she was afraid he would disappear from her protective sight once again.

As they hunkered down underneath the house's foundations Sam watched as Jack attempted to cheer Jazz up by telling her self-deprecating stories. Maddie was keeping Danny close to her side, trying to paw some of his wild hair flat from where it was sticking straight up. Sam found herself settling between Jazz and this Danny doppelgänger as the entire family waited the storm out, situated in a circle like they were performing some kind of strange seance. Jazz was shaking and her wide eyes were staring straight ahead. Sam wondered what had happened to her to make her so terrified of lightening storms. She wondered if FentonWorks had been hit before, back when Danny had been too young to remember; if the memory of it had always cemented lightening with impending death in Jazz's mind.

She reached out and took Jazz's hand in her own, feeling it tremble for a moment before it gripped hers with enough strength to make Sam flinch a little.

"It'll be okay, Jazz." Sam told her, "Nothing's gunna happen to us."

Sam looked over at Danny who was peering at her with calm blue eyes.

Nothing would happen to them because Danny was somewhere up in the Ops Center orchestrating the storm. The Fentons never had to fear lightning again. Not as long as this Danny copy still existed, sitting amongst them as proof that the real Danny was fine. That the real Danny was up there pulling all the strings to make sure that FentonWorks was never blasted apart by mother nature ever again.


	10. A Cry For Help

**A Cry For Help**

* * *

This is a deleted scene from_ Gravity &amp; Other Unreliable Things_

* * *

Danny shifted uncomfortably in the black leather armchair. It was one of those chairs that you had to sit up perfectly straight or you'd slide right off.

"Seriously, did you even sit in this chair before you bought it?" He grumbled.

"My interior designer bought it."

"You have an interior designer? Wait. Why am I not surprised?"

Vlad gave a wave of his hand, "I like the chair. Besides, you're not here to complain about my taste in furniture."

Clearly, Danny thought to himself, looking around the room at the elk heads adorning the walls. He turned to look at the other. Vlad settled himself into the opposing black leather armchair. As he sat his cat jumped gracefully into his lap.

"Let me guess." Vlad purred. Danny was struck by how much his cat looked like him in that moment. Arrogant, slightly puffed up, and basking in the glory of having Danny Phantom come running to him, "You need my help. You don't look so good, you know. You smell stressed. You should really get a hobby. It'll do wonders for you. Maybe try yoga or knitting."

Knitting? Yoga? Danny felt his nose wrinkle immediately.

"You knit?" Danny found himself asking, before realizing he didn't care.

"And do yoga." Vlad hummed.

"As fascinating as yoga sounds..." Danny drawled, "I think I'll pass. What I need are some answers."

Vlad raised an eyebrow.

"And what makes you think that, even if I did have the answers you want, I would tell you?"

"Because like it or not, we're the only two people that are... you know..."

Vlad ran a hand through his white hair and straightened his lapel, ignoring the fact that Danny didn't say half-ghost even if that's what everyone else called them. Vlad himself knew that their exact condition was much more complicated than that. There truly wasn't a name for what they were. Hybrid was probably the best term. They did indeed share a lot in common with ghosts. Instincts, obsessions, feedings... but their powers were different. Their ability to have a physical form. To move in and out of what Vlad liked to call the Fold. The world where trapped spirits spent endless years trying to find a way back to their humanity. But then again - Vlad himself knew that even half-ghost was a misnomer.

"Oh, believe me, Daniel. When I found out about you - at first I was intrigued. But now I'm coming to realize that maybe just destroying you would make my life much easier. At least, then I wouldn't have someone interrupting me on a Saturday night. _Teen Wolf_ is on, you know. I'm missing the season premiere." Vlad leaned forward and looked at the other. His words lacked substantial bite. Vlad had always tried to convince Danny he was out to murder him - but Danny could almost smell the lie rolling off of his pristine pressed suit. Danny didn't so much as even blink at the threat.

"Let's cut to the chase." Danny grumbled, attempting to let the death threat slide without retaliation, "I need to see your ghost portal."

"My- you're rather presumptuous." Vlad placed a manicured hand against his heart in mock outrage. "No manners still, I see. Jack Fenton's son through and through..." Danny gritted his teeth as Vlad mumbled to himself, "Of course had you stayed with _me_ things might have been different...Very different indeed... Anyways, why? Don't you have one of your own?" Vlad petted his cat calmly.

Danny slumped a bit in the chair.

"I need.. I need to know why ghosts always seem to be where I am." He admitted, "Among other things."

"You are wanting to understand your powers." Vlad reinterpreted. He paused for a moment, before getting up suddenly and the twin rings appears around his torso, plunging his human form into darkness. The cat shrieked and fled deep into the recesses of the mansion as the lighting in the room dimmed and Danny felt his hands clench onto the chair as Vlad slipped like a snake into the in-between. Across the foyer the giant mirror reflected only Danny's own human form back to him, despite the fact that Plasmius was mere feet from him.

"I have to admit this conversation is long overdue. Tell me, Daniel, what exactly has you so scared that you'd finally come to me for answers?"

"I'm not scared." Danny retorted.

Vlad gave a dark laugh.

The hair on the back of Danny's neck shot straight up and it took a lot of effort not to flinch away from the other. The raw power exuding from the older man was enough to make Danny want to scramble back - or shift into the in-between and fight, but he resisted the urge. He had been purposely avoiding that realm. Ever since... He didn't know what kind of control he had over it anymore.

"There's no need to lie here. Not to me. I can taste your fear as thickly as if it were my own." Vlad hummed, sniffing like one sniffed a finely aged Pinot Noir moments after the waiter poured it into crystal glass. Danny didn't particularly like being looked at like expensive wine. It made him defensive.

Plasmius tilted his head, black glittering eyes peering intelligently at him before he formed a fist and shot out a red energy ray, knocking the breath out of Danny and pummeling him back into the leather chair.

"You asked to see my ghost portal." Plasmius grinned, sharp teeth wavering as his form grew like a waif in front of him, "Here it is."

Vlad's drew close to Danny and his hand grabbed Danny's shirt, hoisting him up so their faces were inches from each other. Suddenly Danny heard a familiar rushing noise as Plasmius's eyes narrowed and he sniffed at the other. Danny knew exactly what he was attempting to do. He struggled, kicking the man, attempting to punch but his hand flew right through him. It was terrifying - Danny realized - to see what everyone else saw in him up close. Was this how he had looked to Dash? To Sam? To...?

Vlad's glowing red eyes were pupil-less and animalistic.

"Why don't you show me yours?" Plasmius hummed humorously, but the voice was not just Vlad's voice, it was a multitude of voices from the other side, shouting in Danny's ears, "Why don't you fight?"

It was not the answer Danny had wanted, but it had been the one he had assumed. At least he knew he had been right about the portal. But really, that was only one small piece of a larger puzzle. Danny wasn't here just to confirm the portal and they both knew it.

Plasmius's hand tightened around his throat, inhuman eyes regarding him as one would a bug right before they squished it. Danny knew what Vlad wanted. He could smell the intrigue rolling off of him. Vlad was curious, as to why he hadn't shifted yet- why he wasn't fighting back. And if Danny could smell Vlad's emotions, it was a two way street.

"You reek of guilt. And fear. Fear of yourself." Vlad's voice drifted inside Danny's head, "What did you do?"

The voice tutted and Danny could feel Vlad inside his mind, quickly flipping through his memories like one did an address book. It made him feel gross, violated even. Anger surged in him and he felt his eyes start to burn, the acid green glow reflected back to him in Vlad's red.

"You lost control. It was bound to happen sooner or later. You really were fooling yourself with the whole hero act."

Danny ground his teeth, wanting to retort, but unable to breathe with Vlad's vice grip around his windpipe. His head was swimming as he tried to suck in air but Vlad's hand squeezed harder - trying to force him to instinctively switch realms, to trade in his human form for one that didn't need oxygen to survive.. Danny tried to shake his head to clear it. No- Vlad was wrong. He was a good person! He hadn't meant for all of this to happen.

"And look at that black eye. Did you tell your girlfriend what you take from her without her knowing?"

Danny's eyes narrowed, flinching at the mention of Sam. Even the fact that Vlad_ thought_ about Sam made the thing inside Danny hiss and coil obsessively. Sam was _his._ A wave of possessive anger crashed through him and he gripped his hands into fists, concentrating his power into them before shoving Vlad, watching with almost alarm as the other was propelled across the room and into the opposite wall with a loud bang. Coughing and sputtering Danny pressed a cold hand to his neck as he gulped in stale air, collapsing against the leather chair as he rapidly tried to blink his head clear.

Danny remembered the first time he had gone into the in-between and the feeling of Vlad's presence. Every time he shifted he could feel the other like a spotlight. The first night he had been certain that something powerful was hunting him, and every subsequent time he had found himself in the in-between he knew that if he could feel this predator's beacon there was no doubt in his mind that whatever it was could feel his as well. I had only been after meeting Vlad for the first time on a family trip that the two of them had realized exactly what the other was. Even now Vlad gave off a strong and dangerous aura - one Danny knew that he gave off as well.

But, Vlad hadn't hunted him like Danny had thought he would have. Instead, the older man had attempted to take him under his wing, to make him his successor, his protege. But Vlad's morality was always in question. Always doing things for personal gain with no regards for human life. Danny had outrightly refused. Danny was wondering now if he had made the wrong choice. Maybe he should have just stayed with Vlad - with his own kind.

Vlad was shaking his head, getting up gingerly from where he had fallen across the room.

"Damn, kid." He muttered, his voice drifting in Danny's head, unsettled.

"Get out of my thoughts." Danny hissed darkly, the remaining lights in the house giving a loud pop and snapping off - plunging them both into darkness. But it didn't matter, both of them could see with even _better_ vision in the dark and Vlad's form was glowing faintly.

"Why?" Vlad asked as he rubbed his chest where it was still smoking green from the force of Danny's energy blast, "Afraid I'm going to find something?"

Vlad watched the other from across the room, gauging his reaction. He sniffed again. Hot anger, pain, concern, guilt and terror danced along the tip of his tongue. Vlad had known something like this was going to happen. Danny wouldn't admit what he was. He had tried to hid it, to hold it in - masking himself as a hero in order to distract himself from the fact that deep inside there was another part of him that was undead, that was inhuman. Vlad would have thought he would have broken down by now, but then again Daniel never seemed to play by his rules. The kid had a stubborn goody-goody streak that had him imprisoned in his own set of moral commandments. Commandments that the undead part of him didn't understand or care about.

He knew exactly why Danny was refusing to shift. Why he was suppressing his own powers to the point where they were leaking out. Vlad wondered how long it had been since Danny's eyes had truly been blue. Probably months.

"So." Vlad said out loud, retreating from Danny's head for the moment. It didn't matter, he had gotten the information he needed. Not that it had been hard - the boy had been replaying the incident, obsessing over it, for days. Vlad chose his words carefully, watching as Danny gritted his teeth at him, limbs shaking with repressed energy. The boy was practically vibrating with the urge to release his pent up fury on something. It really was unhealthy - both mentally and physically - to keep the undead part of him in shackles for so long.

"You've been forced to finally come to terms with what you really are. And now you're coming to me for answers. I offered you my help years ago but you stubbornly refused."

Danny's eyes narrowed even further- if possible.

"You slipped." Vlad continued.

"Plasmius." Danny warned sharply. Like a tidal wave, Daniel's fear flowed over Vlad and he took in a big gulp of it. The urge to keep goading Daniel was too strong to overcome. Really, it was for his own good. He needed to talk about this with someone that would understand - that wouldn't judge him. At least, that's what Vlad told himself as he continued to dig the knife deeper into Danny's already wounded side; as he fished for more and more of Danny's emotions.

"What was his name again?"

"_Shut up._" Danny's voice was warped, dangerous, screaming through Vlad's mind and swirling around the mansion, rattling the windows. Vlad ignored it.

"Your roommate. It started with a R."

There was an audible intake of breath. Vlad felt a tinge of guilt, but got over it. Daniel needed to be okay with what he was sooner rather than later. All this pent up power was only going to destroy more people. Vlad wasn't about to risk his own well-being because Daniel couldn't get a grip. Really, and people said _he_ was dramatic. All this angst-y teenage emotions were enough to make Vlad feel nineteen again.

"Ryan. Ryan Peterson. Poor boy. Didn't have a chance, really. Not that he was a very good person anyways. If you ask me he deserved it. Though, he was troubled. Much like you."

Danny went still. Vlad's words like an electric current, shocking his entire system. He hadn't heard someone say that name out loud for a few days now. He felt the tears stinging in his eyes, anger fizzling out only to be replaced by crushing guilt. Bonelessly, Danny sank into the chair as if an invisible hand was slowly pushing down on his head, pressing him into the floor.

"Well, thank _god_ it wasn't your friend. That Foley kid or something." Vlad said humorously. Vlad watched as the name seemed to shake Danny out of whatever little self-loathing party he was hosting for himself in his armchair over there. His sharp green eyes suddenly were wary with exhaustion, his body tense.

"Or you know-" Vlad steeled himself for what was sure to be an _epic_ tantrum. Really, Daniel was too predictable, "What if your stupid girlfriend had been there? Did you tell her what you did? Or were you too much of a coward?"

At the mention of Sam Danny shuddered. The green rings of his irises nearly getting swallowed by black as they dilated. Vlad was thrown a little by the amount of darkness pouring off of his self-appointed protege. The kid gave a inhuman growl, peeling back his lips and baring pointed teeth.

_"Don't talk about Sam."_ He hissed, but his words were inhuman, warped and not quite English, as light bathed him at the waist and Vlad felt the other finally let go and join him in the fold.

After a moment of blinding light Vlad blinked and looked back over at Danny. What he saw was enough to make him speechless.


	11. Untitled

_I'm sure this has already been done before butttt... Procrastinating on writing Gravity leads to random drabbles._

* * *

Maddie paused by the door to Danny's room. She leaned the laundry basket on one hip as she peered cautiously inside. Half of the time Danny disappeared from his room entirely, but there he was sitting near his open window, math book in his lap. Maddie smiled softly as she watched him sit up a bit straighter and lean out of the window to peer up at the night sky. Despite all the evidence Maddie_ knew_ her son was a good kid. She _knew_ he was smart. After all, he had come from her. All those absences, bad grades, and sneaking out of the house… he was just in a phase. All teenagers went through them. She had read about it.

Then her smile wiped off her face completely as she watched him blow a small cloud of smoke out of the open window. Her grip on the laundry basket slipped. She felt a jolt of terror run through her at what she had just witnessed. Pot? Danny was smoking _pot?_ Under their noses?

Maddie shoved the door to his room fully open and dropped the basket onto his carpeted floor with a soft noise. She sniffed a few times, but Danny had been careful enough to blow all the incriminating smell out of the open window.

"What was that?"

Danny jumped and spun, surprised.

"Mom!" He looked suddenly guilty, "What– What was what?"

"That! The smoke. Are you smoking in here?"

Danny stared at her for a long moment, his face was blank. Maddie watched as he struggled to grasp her question. Was he high? His eyes were red-rimmed and he looked exhausted. Then again, he was always tired now-a-days. Maddie was mentally hitting herself on the head for not noticing all of the signs. Slowly understanding started to cross his features, followed by fear and then– much to Maddie's chagrin– amusement.

He held up two hands. Maddie snatched what was in his right hand, pulling it up to the light and seeing it was just his pencil.

"I don't smoke, mom." He told her. "Honest."

"Then what did I just see?"

"You sure you didn't just see a cloud or something?"

"Are you calling your mother stupid?"

"What? No! Can we have this conversation later?" His eyes were hopeful.

Later? Why?

"Absolutely not." Maddie put her hands on her hips, "Explain."

Danny opened his mouth, frowned, and then closed it again. His eyes were alive with paranoia. They darted wildly around the room as if expecting some kind of attack at any moment. Maddie felt much of her anger fizzle out of her, only to be replaced with worry. She sighed and closed his bedroom door. Danny watched her warily as she pulled over his desk chair and plopped down in it. She reached over and ran a hand through his dark hair, cupping his cheek.

"Honey, you can tell me anything." She gave him a small smile, "Anything at all. I'm your mom, its my job to love you no matter what."

Danny shifted uncomfortably. He was looking anywhere but at her. Maddie couldn't read his face for a moment. Something she had said had made him even guiltier, though. He was picking a bit at the hem of his shirt. She started to get the sinking feeling that Danny was keeping a bigger secret from her. Fear made her heart started to pound in her chest at the thought of what it could be.

"Is it just pot? Or is it something else?" She whispered.

"I'm not smoking weed!" Danny exploded in exasperation, "Jesus _christ."_

"Okay, fine. Then tell me what I saw." Maddie asked reasonably.

Danny quieted. He seemed to be weighing his options. Maddie knew immediately he was going to lie to her. He didn't trust her with whatever _this_ was. How had they grown so far apart? Maddie remembered when Danny used to come to her about everything! What could have changed in the past year to make him shove her away?

"I–" He seemed to have settled on a suitable excuse, but just as he opened his mouth to tell her a dark maniacal cackle erupted from outside. Both of them froze and then leaned out of Danny's window, peering down into the backyard.

"Come out come out, wherever you are." Came a sing-song voice from below Danny's window. A few discordant notes clashed, the eerie chord rippling through the air and down their bones. Maddie shivered and Danny stiffened next to her.

Down near Maddie's rose bushes a cloud of blue glowing smoke swirled. When it cleared a slender young woman was left standing– or floating– peering up with glowing green ecto-eyes. Maddie felt her entire body tense to fight.

"Ghost!" Maddie hissed.

Danny muttered something under his breath. It sounded suspiciously like _oh thank god. _Maddie frowned. If Danny thought that he was getting out of this conversation this easily...

"C'mon dipstick, don't make me serenade you," the ghost pouted. "I've come to repay you for that little stint with the boat." What was this ghost talking about?

"What are you waiting for?" Danny snapped, pushing her gently towards the door. "Go get her."

And then Maddie made a decision that no one was expecting.

"No, Danny," she said. "Jack can handle the ghost. You and I need to have this conversation."

Danny's blue eyes were growing in horror.

"What? _No–_ get out of my room." He was pushing the roller chair towards his bedroom door. It hit the laundry basket. Over ten different white shirts with red insignias toppled out across his floor.

"Danny–" Maddie huffed, miffed. She had just folded those.

"Hey– are you ignoring me? You better not be ignoring me!" The ghost screeched from below the window, "I'm gunna _kill_ you. No one ignores me!"

There was a clatter from downstairs. Maddie heard Jack shout as he spotted the ghost hovering decidedly near the kitchen window. As expected, the soft purr of a Fenton gun powering up whined through the house.

"MADS!" Jack bellowed, "GHOST!"

Maddie ignored him. Instead, she grabbed her youngest by his arms and pushed him back down into his chair where he had gotten up to dart out of the room.

"Mom! Get OUT!" Danny was almost yelling. He looked terrified. A thread of guilt ran through her. Sometimes she forgot how frightened Danny was of ghosts.

"Danny, it's fine. Your father can handle it. You know I would never let one of those _things_ hurt you."

A hurt look flickered across his face. Maddie wasn't sure why it was there. She pulled him close to her and wrapped her arms protectively around him, revelling in the feeling of his warmth and his heart beat against hers. Time after time Maddie chose her own research over Danny. So much so that she had neglected to notice all the small cries for help Danny had given her. She couldn't remember the last time she had simply _hugged_ him close. This was all her fault. She should have paid more attention to him. Maybe then he wouldn't have turned to drugs or whatever else he was involved in. She should have intervened sooner.

Outside she saw Jack barrelling across the yard, aiming a bazooka. There was a volley of shots and the ghost was forced to retreat from the side of the house.

"I'm not leaving," she told him softly, her nose pressed into the crown of his head. "We're going to figure this out."

Danny paused his wriggling and fighting and stilled, momentarily stunned.

"I can't. I can't tell you," he said quietly.

Maddie's hand froze from where it was threading through his hair. She felt her heart nearly burst out of her ribcage at the meaning in those words. Her body went cold. Had she heard him right?

It was the first time Danny admitted he was hiding something from her.


	12. Lockjaw

**Lockjaw**

_._

_._

_—_

_I. Game_

—

Sometimes things happened without reason. Things that seemed completely random. They left behind little but the reminder that life was, innately, unpredictable. Valerie hated unpredictability. She liked to prepare and yeah, she was a girl that needed answers.

So of course it threw her for a loop when, on a sunny Wednesday afternoon, with absolutely no warning and no explanation, Danny Fenton was kidnapped from her English class by suits.

The door had burst open and four men had strode with purpose into the classroom, silently, surveying the crowd for a full minute. The grimy faces of twenty-seven different high school juniors gazed expectantly back at them, all innocent— all except one.

"Him," one of the men said. He raised his arm stiffly, as if his suit was so starched it only bent at the joints, and pointed a gloved finger to the third row back.

Twenty-six chairs squeaked as the students craned their necks around to get a closer look at the kid he was pointing at. Valerie glanced to her left at Danny, who was rigid in his seat. Danny Fenton? What in the world would the government want with Danny Fenton?

Someone cleared their throat, loudly and deliberately.

Valerie's head whipped off Danny's pale face over to Mr. Lancer, who had _The Kite Runner_ in his loose hands, face still frozen in shock, posed mid-lecture.

Lancer tilted his head, unfazed by the way these men had barged in. He raised an eyebrow at them. "Hello?" he asked, with the air of a teacher interrupted. "Can I help you gentleman?"

The one nearest the door gave Lancer a gleaming smile. His teeth were _really_ white. As white as his suit and his pants and his shoes. His skin was so white it refracted the fluorescent lights. Pale eyes scanned the room like a robot absorbing and analyzing all of their heartbeats and thoughts. That grin widened. Valerie knew he was trying to look non-threatening, but that smile was scary deadly. "We just need to take Daniel Fenton in for a few questions."

The three other men started forward, stalking with military pecisions through the rows. As they passed, students shoved their desks out of the way, parting, forming a tunnel.

Danny shrank back in his chair. He looked stunned.

Tucker Foley jolted out of his seat from the back row and made an attempt to… to do what? Valerie found that her body had gotten up without her permission as well. She found herself grabbing over at Danny's desk as if she knew what the hell she was doing.

"Stand back, girl," one of the men warned. "This doesn't concern you."

A boom resounded. The students jumped. Lancer glared. _The Kite Runner_ lay, crumpled, across his desk where he had thrown it. "Unless you men have a warrant, Mr. Fenton is remaining in that chair until I am done teaching him about dramatic irony. Now _get out of my classroom."_

Valerie's jaw unhinged. Did Lancer _really_ just say that?

"As a matter of fact, we _don't_ need a warrant to bring him in," the agent said. "Don't worry Mr…?"

"Lancer," Lancer supplied stiffly.

"Mr. Lancer. Your student will be returned to you soon enough. I'm sure he doesn't mind taking a little break from your class, right boy?"

"Actually—" Danny tried to say, looking very much like he minded, but before he could get anything out, he was grabbed by his arms, yanked out of his seat, flanked on either side, and escorted out of the room.

Valerie stared at his empty desk. The class broke into excited whisperings.

_—do you think he did?—_

_—probably his parents. Mental cases, they—_

_—always been kinda strange—_

Tucker took off out the door and down the hallway.

Lancer looked beside himself for a moment. He clapped a few times. "Settle down, settle down. Stay in your seats. I'll be right back." He left the classroom.

The students grew louder; each story more and more elaborate, more and more ridiculous.

Valerie sunk back down into her chair. Quiet, sweet, Danny Fenton... involved in a gang? A ghost sympathizer? Insane? No. There had to be some kind of mistake.

.

.

—

_II. Set_

—

He had been missing for twenty-seven hours.

The Fentons had demanded to see their son, to have him released, but they had been shoved from this room to that, from line A to line B. Danny was lost in a sea of red tape and governmental loopholes. The GIW and the police worked in very different ways. Sam was realizing too-little-too-late just how much power the government really had.

"Nothing," Jazz spat as she stalked back into the living room. She threw her cellphone down onto the couch next to Sam. "Three hours of being on hold, transferred from department to department, and _nothing. _This isn't right. They can't just keep him there. They don't have a warrant. He's a _minor,_ for godssakes. This is _illegal._"

Tucker and Sam exchanged a look. There were a handful of reasons why Danny would be detained this long, none of them particularly reassuring.

Sam glanced up as Mrs. Fenton placed a warm mug of coffee into her hands. She hadn't the heart to tell her that she didn't drink coffee. Jazz gazed at her knowingly from across the couch. That's all they had done, traded knowing looks all day and counted down just how long they would let Danny remain in the hands of the GIW without telling his parents the truth.

"You don't know why they took him in?" Mrs. Fenton asked, for the billionth time.

_Yes,_ Sam thought. "No," she said.

Tucker shook his head mutely, eyes huge.

"I don't get it," Maddie whispered, over and over, as she moved out of the living room towards the kitchen. Halfway there she spun off and walked directly into her husband's arms, burying her face into his chest as he wrapped her in a loose embrace. "I bet he's scared and confused. We have to _do_ something, Jack."

"I'm sure they just need some help with a case. Our boy saw something. That's all," Jack rumbled into her hair. "He'll be back soon enough and have a good laugh at how worried we've been."

"You're right," Maddie said. "Of course." She pulled back and straightened her bangs for a second, swiping underneath her eyes at any rogue mascara stains. "I just don't understand why they won't let us talk to him. Or why it's taking this long. Should we get a lawyer? Jack? Do you think we should get him a lawyer?"

"He didn't _do_ anything," Jazz spoke up, her voice like a whip. "Why would he need a lawyer?"

Even if he needed a lawyer, it was doubtful one would be of much use. Not after they found out the truth. Ghost's rights were murky. And they _would_ find the truth. It was only a matter of time. Not to mention a lawyer would ask a whole bunch of difficult questions, pry into secrets better left unsurfaced... Sam sunk further into the couch and pulled her cup of coffee close to her chest to suck in it's warmth.

The quiet purr of an expensive car interrupted their conversation. A bright light shot through the windows, bathing the four of them in yellow. It started on one side of the room and scanned across to the other before stilling.

Sam's breath caught in her throat. She shot up off the couch and ran over to the window, peering outside. A white Cadillac was parked in the driveway. The back left door opened and a boy stumbled out.

"It's Danny," she announced, flinging herself from the window to the front door.

She swung it open.

"Hey." He smiled at them tiredly, black hair disheveled, eyes exhausted. He was still in the same outfit as yesterday. He smelled, but he was alive. They let him go so that must mean that everything was okay. His secret was safe, therefore _he_ was safe.

"Danny." His mother swooped him into a tight hug. His face winced.

Sam watched the white Cadillac reverse out of the driveway and cruise off into the night.

.

Danny had scarfed down a generous helping of macaroni and cheese, before retreating to his room to shower. He had deflected their questions for now._ I'll tell you guys what happened, after I go to the bathroom. After I get something to eat. After I take a shower._

He had been 'taking a shower' for a good forty-five minutes. Something was up.

Sam knocked on his bedroom door. When there was no answer she opened it. His shower was still dripping, but his room was empty. Her heart thudded. Had they taken him again?

She noticed a pair of bare feet sticking out from behind his bed. "Danny?" she whispered, shutting the door and quickly walking around the end of his bed.

He was curled on his side in his pajamas, clutching a pillow tightly to his middle. A trashbin full of half-digested macaroni and cheese sat innocently to the left of his head. Sam swallowed and grabbed it, moving it aside, her nose wrinkling.

With a soft grunt she lowered herself to the floor to lay next to him until their heads were inches apart. "What happened?" she whispered. "What did they want?"

He gazed back at her. The longer he remained silent the more terrified she became. She noticed the small tremors wracking his body, making his hands and feet clench rhythmically. "What did they do?" she prompted. "Danny? What did they _do?"_ But she knew what they had done. Danny had looked like this after the accident; after his electrocution.

"Nothing," Danny chattered. "Just tried to good-cop bad-cop me." He attempted a laugh.

"Bull_shit_," Sam snapped. "They tortured you. Shocked you." They probably thought Danny knew something about Phantom, something that they could scare out of him. Or maybe they already knew his secret? Had they shocked him to induce him to change? Sam went cold at the thought. But why would they let him go if they knew? "This is illegal. We should _sue._"

"It's okay," Danny murmured. He caught the righteous look on her face; the anger and incredulousness. "Really, Sam. It's over. I can't bring anymore attention to myself."

"Do they— Do they know about you?"

"Course not," Danny answered, too quickly.

Sam paused. She stared at him for a minute, before she sat up and put his head in her lap. He winced and hissed the whole way. Her fingers threaded into his hair as she massaged his scalp. His eyes drifted. "How are you going to explain this to your parents?" she asked.

"Dunno," he admitted.

"Maybe it's time." She reached down and caught his hand in hers, giving it a supportive squeeze.

He let out a slow breath. "Can't," he said darkly, "I'm in too deep."

.

.

—

_III. Strike_

—

Danny shuffled down the street, alone. His fists clenched at his sides. _216 Pine Street, 8pm._ They had seared it into his memory with repeated doses of fifty-thousand volts of electricity. He would have flown here, but his powers were still messed up from his last GIW encounter. Something he was certain they had done on purpose.

The GIW's bumbling inadequacy had been the butt of jokes among him, Sam, and Tucker. However, this new guy— Agent Hunt— was different. No mercy, no nonsense, smart, uncompromising. Danny felt as if he was a mouse within a maze. He didn't know what each dead-end entailed, nor what was on the other side.

He paused and gazed up at the small house. 216. It looked just like any other house on this block. Same Victorian-inspired facade, painted white with off-white trim. It had a four-stair landing and an empty driveway. Danny walked past it everyday on his way to school. He shivered and climbed the stairs, grabbing the brass knocker, but before he had a chance to knock, the door swung open and he was ushered inside by two men. They were both dressed in civilian clothes, but Danny could smell the agent on them.

"You're ten minutes late," a voice rang out from the study. "Unacceptable."

Danny glanced between the two agents, jaw clenched, before he made his way down the hallway. The inside of this house was too bright, and decorated plainly. Almost like someone went to Target and bought out their furniture section. Warm and cozy, but not personal. Like a set up for a photoshoot, or an ad. Fake.

As he stepped into the study, the door closed behind him. Danny flinched and glanced back at the solid oak. It shouldn't unnerved him, but he didn't have the power to phase through it right now. Agent Hunt had seen to that.

"I suppose you had to walk here, so I'll let you off the hook this one time," the man continued, standing near a yellow floral armchair. "You're not used to walking places, are you?"

Danny ground his teeth and glared, but said nothing.

"Sit," Hunt gestured towards the chair. "Want something to drink? You'll need it." He waved a bottle of brandy back and forth.

"No. I'm _sixteen_," Danny spat. He made no move to sit.

Hunt paused, looked at the bottle, and shrugged. "Suit yourself." He poured a healthy dose of liquor into a glass and took a sip, lowering himself into the armchair with a sigh. He was dressed in a plain black tee and jeans, mid-forties, slim and in shape, as if he cared a great deal about his personal appearance. His hair was greying and cut short, face cleanshaven, shoes polished. A white scar cut its way through his upper lip, hooking underneath his left nostril.

Danny waited, tapping his sneaker impatiently against the tan carpeting. "Can we get this over with? Tell me your evil plan. What are you going to do?" he finally asked.

Agent Hunt knew— how, Danny didn't know— about him being Phantom. One sample of blood, one stakeout, a few inquiries into his parent's Portal along with the strange hospital visit two years ago… his secret wasn't as well guarded as he had thought. Not to someone with unlimited funds and an eye for detail.

"Let me start by saying how pleased I am that you're cooperating. Already, we make a great team." Hunt lifted his glass as if to make a toast.

"You kidnapped me, tortured me, and threatened to reveal me," Danny ground out. "I don't have much of a choice."

"No," Hunt agreed. "You don't." His too-pale eyes affixed to Danny, pinning him in place. This man was creepy. Hollow inside. Hunt sighed. "The man that used to be in my position, Agent K, was an imbecile. He wanted nothing more than to capture you. To lock you up for good. Of course, you're much too useful to be tossed away like that."

Danny's stomach squirmed uneasily. He shook his head, once. "Whatever it is you want, I won't help you get it."

"Yes you will." Hunt smiled assuredly.

"Look," Danny snapped, eyes flashing. He pointed a finger accusingly at the man and took a step forward as if to intimidate. Truth was, he was scared. "I deal with people like you all the time. People with power trips, inflated egos, thinking they can take over the world. I _always_ stop them. I'll stop you."

Hunt's smile widened. "I don't want to take over the world, Danny. I want simpler, more achievable, things. Things that will benefit this country. You will help me get them."

Danny shook his head, mutely.

"I imagine your first day back was uncomfortable," Hunt continued. "What with you getting pulled away in front of everyone. Not exactly the kind of attention Danny _Fenton_ wants to attract. What have you been telling people?"

"That I'm a GIW prospective agent. All you need is a 2.1 GPA to join, right?" Danny scathed. Hunt was right, though. The whole point of Fenton was to fly under the radar. Now he was the talk of the school. Rumors about his own delinquency were being tossed around. Each more elaborate than the next. While no one suspected his connection to Phantom yet, Danny knew his days of obscurity were over. Hunt had, no doubt, done it to make a point. Point made. "What do you want?"

"I want you to do whatever I say, exactly, without question, and to tell no one," Hunt outlined, simply.

"Absolutely not. Never in a million years," Danny laughed. "Can I go now?"

Hunt paused and stared at him patiently. "I'm not finished. How do you think your parents stayed in business all these years? Selling ghost hunting equipment in a town that never believed in ghosts?"

"I— I dunno, maybe they invested in stuff. The stock market." Danny argued, thrown. "Why does it matter?"

"Loans, kid." Hunt leaned forward and rapped his fingers along his glass. He tilted his head, eyes glinting. "While your parents work independent of organizations like SETI or NASA, they're hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt to the government and behind on their payments. I work for the government. All it takes is a few inquires for your house to be repossessed. Soon after it will be discovered that their Portal has been the cause of the ghost attacks."

Hunt paused.

Danny froze. Was Hunt telling the truth? His mind raced. He didn't know enough about loans, grants, and the government to know if Hunt was right. He was— He was saying that he'd take their home if he didn't cooperate? All their things? The Portal?

"Your parents know the Portal is letting dangerous ghosts free, yet they won't shut it down. Reckless endangerment the public." Hunt shot Danny a patronizing look. "I know you're smarter than your GPA, kid. How long do you think it will take for them to be put on trial? Sued for damages and injuries caused by ghost attacks? For money they don't possess?"

"No," Danny frowned. "They never did anything wrong. _I'm _the one that opened the Portal. They don't have a clue what they're doing half the time. They're harmless."

"You can't very well let the public know that," Hunt reasoned. "Unless, of course, you want the world to know your secret."

Danny struggled fruitlessly for a minute, mouth opening wordlessly. He stared at Hunt, seeing him for the first time as even _more_ of a monster. The man had strings all around him, circling and encroaching. Danny hadn't even realized when they had been tied around his arms and legs, immobilizing him. He felt like he was once again in a position like Freakshow: a puppet subject to someone's whims and commands. Only this time it was worse because he was completely, and horribly,_ aware_ of it.

"After their trial your sister will be taken by child protective services until a more suitable guardian is chosen. Of course she's free to make her own decisions on her eighteenth birthday, but I promise you this: she will be relocated to Elmerton, to the projects, where boys are most desperate for beautiful girls like her." Hunt paused and took another long drink from his glass. He considered Danny and leaned back into the chair. "Wasn't she supposed to go to Yale or Harvard or…?" He waved a hand fruitlessly for a moment.

"Shut up," Danny growled. This man was just trying to scare him. "You're full of shit. _If_ my parents couldn't take her, which will _never happen,_ Jazz would go to our Aunt's, or Vlad's. We have plenty of relatives and family friends. Hell, she'd run away before—"

"Vlad?" Hunt questioned. "Vladimir Masters? You think _he's_ a suitable guardian? I have plenty of evidence that suggests otherwise."

Danny's knees went weak. He took a step forward and sank into the opposite chair. This man knew _way_ too much. Something in the way he was smiling made Danny certain he knew all about Vlad. About him being half-ghost.

Hunt got up from his chair and walked over to the small metal bar. "You see, Danny, I can offer you protection in exchange for your cooperation." He paused and glanced at him. "Teenage boys like you don't waver in the face of death. You could care less about your _own_ life. But, will you let your friends and family suffer?" He grabbed an empty glass and paced back to the center of the room.

"You can't," Danny croaked. "What you're doing… this has to be illegal."

"It most certainly is illegal," Hunt agreed with a short nod. "Good thing you can't tell anyone about it. Good thing that, even if you did, it wouldn't matter. Ghosts don't have rights, even half-ghosts such as yourself. The only way to expose me, is to expose yourself for what you are." Hunt set the glass down heavily on the table beside Danny and filled it generously with brandy. "The government moves so slowly that it will take years before laws protecting your kind are invoked. That's the _best_ case scenario."

With a small squeak he re-corked the bottle and set it down beside him as if suggesting that Danny would, at some point or another, finish the whole thing.

"Of course there are other scenarios," he continued. "How do you think people will react when they find out you exist? A human boy that can shoot ectoplasmic rays from his palms? Fly through vaults? Listen in on people without being seen? Take down a building with a wail?" He trailed off menacingly.

Danny swallowed. His imagination filled in the blanks. Visions of him strapped to a table for the rest of his life, of his own execution, or worse— painful experimentation. For once, no witty comeback bubbled forth.

"Daniel James Fenton" —Hunt crouched down across from him and offered him the glass— "you're fucked."

Danny stared at the liquor, but made no move to grab it. Instead he peered around at the room, looking for something, anything, that could help him. His own pale reflection stared back in a oversized round mirror hanging directly across from them. He looked awful. "I won't help you. Reveal me. Do whatever," he stated.

Hunt sighed and set the glass down next to him, before clasping his hands together and resting his chin atop them. He tapped his fingers along the backs of his hands for a moment. "Work with me here. Everyone's got secrets, Danny. Learning people's secrets is my forte. Did you know that Tucker Foley has illegally downloaded hundreds of thousands of movies, albums, video games, and stolen software? That the Manson's have been committing insider trading crimes in order to maintain their family fortune?" Hunt tapped a slender finger against his temple as if what he was sharing was just the tip of the iceberg.

"Fine, fine. _Stop,_" Danny whispered. He grappled the cup of brandy in desperation and threw it back. It burned down his throat, making him choke, cough, sputter. Danny wasn't good at mind games, dirty tricks and blackmail. Never had been. He stared down at the empty glass in desolation.

Hunt sniffed that he had won. He got up and placed a hand on Danny's shoulder, ignoring the way Danny instantly shrugged it off. "I'm glad we have an agreement, Phantom." He walked over to the study door. "Cheer up. You and I— we'll change the world for the better." He yanked it open and paused. "Just remember what could happen if anyone finds out about our arrangement. My people will reach out soon for your first assignment. Welcome to the team."

Hunt spun around to walk through the door.

Danny jolted up and tried to summon a deadly ectoblast, prepared to carve a six-inch long gaping hole through this man's empty heart, but his powers betrayed him. Barely a spark appeared. His fingers shook.

Hunt paused, back to him, as if knowing that Danny had tried to end him, before he shut the door and left.

Danny grabbed the bottle of brandy and chucked it against the mirror, shattering his own reflection, in an explosion of glass and amber.

Immediately he regretted it.

He would have liked to drink it.


	13. Going Ghost

.

**Going Ghost**

* * *

You're fourteen and you've just survived your first ghost attack. Not just survived— won! Ever since the accident you've been off kilter, but for the first time you feel like you've found your purpose. It's like stepping outside on a brisk winter morning. Crisp. Crystalline.

You lock away the Lunch Lady in the Fenton Thermos, find that fiery warmth that pulses somewhere behind your stomach, and change back. It only takes a faint pull. The trigger is sensitive and touchy. Going human is like running downhill compared to going ghost. A wave of relief and exhaustion batters you. The edges of your vision darken. You shake your head sharply in an attempt to shake away dizziness.

Yesterday you found out the cost of these new powers after fainting. They drain you, and the longer you stay ghost the more exhausted you get when you change back, but, you're pretty sure that with practice it will get better in time.

Sam and Tucker notice your wobbly knees and hook their arms in yours, grabbing you by the armpits. Together you watch your parents stampede away from the school. Their Fenton Finder _chirp chirp chirps._

"So you're not gonna tell them?" Tucker asks.

"Nah," you say. "I finally think I understand what these powers are for."

.

.

It's two months after the accident when Sam firsts notices a pure white hair resting amongst your darker ones. Mortified, you demand she pulls it out, quick, before anyone starts to think you're getting grey hair at the ripe age of fourteen. You think of dad and wonder if this was just another perk of being a Fenton. Grey hairs at fourteen. Is that even normal?

Sam fishes for it and plucks it out with a sharp tug. Pinched between her thumb and index finger it glows like silk caught in the light.

"You're taking this going ghost thing too seriously," Sam jokes.

You laugh and watch as she lets go of the strand of hair. Sam turns back to her computer. You don't, you watch the strand fall, and you swear— although it could be a trick of the light— that it evaporates inches before it hits the ground.

.

.

You're fifteen and you know something's wrong. You don't know how to bring it up in conversation as it's just a feeling. Besides, you're pretty confident Sam and Tucker can sense it too. Something is off. Your two halves are weighted differently than they were a year ago. A year ago you could confidently say you were a human with ghost powers. Now…

.

.

After Pariah Dark, you're unconscious for two days. When you wake back up again Sam and Tucker greet you with uncertain looks.

"Welcome back to the living," Sam says, eyes turbulent. You can guess what she's worried about, because you worry about it too.

Every time you go ghost you worry about changing back. Finding your humanity has become less of a downhill run and more of that rope climb in gym class: equal parts exhausting and seemingly impossible. And after each battle it takes longer for you to find that spot somewhere behind your stomach, yank it, and change back. That spot is a star. It's heat is your wayfinding, your point of reference, your way back. At fourteen you had been so near that the molten heat of it was too intense to ever lose, but now— at fifteen— you're hurtling backwards away as the universe expands infinitely out, and the star's warmth is fading and faraway.

You don't know what that means or how to go about fixing it. What you do know is that you can't give up ghost fighting. In the past year you've saved Amity Park's populace from at least three armageddons. The people, your family, your friends, they need you more and more. Ghost fighting has ceased to be a choice in your mind; it's a duty.

Sam worries her lip between her teeth.

Tucker holds out a hand mirror. "Don't freak out," he says.

You take the mirror from him, dread pooling in your stomach. You take one look in it and try to not freak out, you really do, but a solid chunk of your hair is pearlescent and ghostly. Your reflection is pale. You swear for a moment your eyes are green and not blue.

"I guess plucking is out of the question," you joke, but it falls flat.

"We'll have to dye it," Sam says quietly.

You wait for them to question you, to demand what's going on, but they never do. They probably already have put together their own conclusions. Maybe they've talked it out amongst themselves, without you, and have landed at the same realization you have. That you have to keep going ghost, because this city needs Danny Phantom.

.

.

You're seventeen and you admit you're a ghost that can turn human. Humanity is your superpower that you practice. Your star is no bigger than a marble. It's warmth is fleeting and doesn't feel like your own. Each time you find it and yank at it, it feels like you're sitting down in a chair warmed by the body heat of a stranger. Going human is getting more and more unappealing. Each time you change, you're asleep for days with a good portion of your hair snowy. You and Sam have been through at least fifty boxes of black hair dyes. A beanie is now part of your everday outfit.

You think to yourself: you should really limit the times you go ghost, but you have to do it or else innocent people will die. The more you protect this town, the more you have to keep going.

Sam and Tucker get worried enough to bring it up. You devise methods to make it easier for you to change back. For the next few weeks they play your favorite songs, and talk about your favorite memories. They hold your hand to remind you what a human hand feels like. For a week it helps.

.

.

Nocturne will never harm Amity Park again and you've spent the last week in the hospital in a coma as a result.

When you wake up you feel weak. This body feels stolen. It's too heavy and warm. For a minute you stare listlessly around the room, confused. Where are you? What happened? Your gaze lands on Mom who's sitting to your left, engrossed in a book. Your breath hitches, terrified your hair has given you away and she knows.

Mom hears your breath and glances up.

"Danny!" Mom cries. She scoops you into her arms and buries her face in your shoulder. Through the hospital gown you can feel her tears as she weeps. Her grip hurts. Your muscles feel sore from disuse and you don't want to know how long you've been out this time. With your free hand, you reach up, pull out a strand of hair, and look at it over Mom's shoulder. It's black. You go limp in relief. Sam must have dyed it right when you changed back.

You're held in the hospital for another week. Doctors can't figure out the cause of the coma. You wisely keep your mouth shut and hope none of their tests give you away. You can't afford for your secret to get discovered. You have ghosts to catch; people to save.

.

.

A day after you're released from the hospital you go to Sam's. When you get there Tucker and Sam are waiting for you. It smells like intervention. You tense, growing defensive. Even though you know, logically, that they talk about you when you're not there all the time, you don't like this feeling of betrayal.

"What's going on?" you ask sharply.

Sam looks at Tucker. Tucker fidgets. You know you're not going to like wherever this is going. "We just want to talk, about, about… you know… The problem you've been having" —he struggles— "with changing back."

"I have it under control," you blurt.

"Danny, you were in a coma for a _week,_" Sam says. "What we're doing isn't working. When you changed back after Nocturne, you weren't— I thought—" She chokes and reaches out to try and take your hand, but you yank it back. You don't like the reminder that it's much warmer than yours, and you don't want to freak her out any more by the fact that you have the temperature of a corpse.

"Nocturne's power is to put people to sleep," you argue. "That's why I was in the coma."

"That's not what happened," Tucker says.

You want to stay standing, to prove to them that you're strong and that nothing is wrong, but your muscles are stiff and your strength hasn't recovered since your hospital visit. You know, deep down, that it might never return. You sink wearily into an armchair. The act feels like an admission.

Sam gazes at you, pleadingly. "You can't keep doing this. I'm scared. _We're_ scared. What if next time you don't wake up?"

"What are you saying?" you ask.

Tucker and Sam exchange a look.

"You can't go ghost anymore," Tucker says quietly.

You sit for a moment in stunned silence. They're asking you to stop saving lives, to stop doing your job. You shake your head, slowly. Do they even know the enormity of what they're asking?

"There's other ways of fighting ghosts," Sam's saying, bursting into the conversation to fill your stunned silence. You get the impression she's practiced this. "We can use your parent's weaponry, we can fight together, as humans. We can—"

"Too dangerous," you mutter, dismissing the idea completely. What should happen if a ghost drops one of them? Who would catch them? Who would turn them intangible to avoid bullets or collapsing buildings? No. Out of the question.

"Danny, _you're dying!_" Sam yells. "Don't you get that? Look at you!" Her eyes fill with tears. "One of these days you won't be able to change back! We can protect Amity Park in other ways, ways that don't... "

"That don't kill you," Tucker finishes.

"You think you can stop ghosts like Nocturne without ghost powers?" you rant. "You guys didn't even know he had taken over! You were asleep. And Nocturne is just one example. What about Pariah? Vortex? Spectra? _I'm_ the only one that can stop them. I'm the only one that can protect this city. I don't care if it kills me, I will do it."

Tucker and Sam flinch.

"You're not thinking clearly," Sam says after a pause. "Listen to yourself. You're… you're _obsessing_."

The word normally triggers something in you. At fifteen you would have denied having an obsession, because an obsession implies you're more ghostly than you have any right being, but— at seventeen— you just stare at her and think she's right. She's right and it doesn't matter, because regardless you have one. It's nearly overtaken your star, and it's the only thing in this world that matters to you anymore.

.

.

It's your birthday. You're eighteen. You've avoided Danny Phantom for three months and instead used your parent's weapons. It's been the hardest thing you've ever done, but yesterday you had no choice. It was go ghost, or lose Sam.

The transformation had been swift. Phantom was always humming underneath the surface, yearning to break out. As soon as you changed, you knew this time was different. Your star was gone, in it's place ice. Not thinking too hard about where this new power came from, you froze Undergrowth into submission with startling ease. Never before had you dispatched of a ghost that powerful so effortlessly. That should have been your hint.

It's your birthday and you've spent it hovering in Sam's bedroom, hiding away from your parents and your sister, because you haven't figured out how to change back yet.

Sam holds both of your hands within hers. An unopened box of black hair dye sits atop her vanity. Even though she's upset you used your ghost powers, she grateful. Her hands tremble in your own. Undergrowth has affected her, deeply. You remember Freakshow and know that it will take a long time for her to feel safe again. A rush of anger snaps through you at the thought and you decide that going ghost was worth it.

"Ten hours," she remarks softly.

Any minute now, any second, and you'll find it. You've been in this position before, and you've always changed back. Although, ten hours is a new record. You suck in a deep breath and let it out. Sam goes silent as you scrunch your eyes in concentration. You've tried everything, every trick that Sam and you've got. Music, memories, videos, games, laughter, eating… all things that have triggered the change in the past. Now you just feel cold and barren. Like there's nothing there _to_ trigger. No star; just ice. It's over.

You open your eyes and gaze at Sam. "I can't," you say. Your breathing goes shallow. Panic fills you. "I can't change back."

"You said that last time," Sam soothes.

You shake your head. You don't know how to tell Sam without breaking her heart, but this time you know for certain—at eighteen— you've completed your final transformation.


	14. A Room

**A Room**

* * *

Ectoplasm kisses my fingertips, fills my nose, my lungs. Sound, like always, is muted and distorted behind four inches of bulletproof polycarbonate. And, like always, all I can hear is a pulsing hiss from the electric pump. A pneumatic _pfffshhh, pfffshhh, pfffshhh _as ectoplasm is churned, extracted, and replenished.

My eyes remain closed, but that doesn't mean I can't see. I can feel my world humming along around me right outside the polycarbonate, as well as all the items contained within it. My world consists of a room with four walls, one door, three desks and five chairs, one framed photograph, two computers with two keyboards and two mice, various metal instruments including (but not limited to) scalpels, surgical clamps, scissors, pens, paper, fourteen pencils, a roll of gauze, this machine, this tank that I live in, the wires and tubes running through it, through me, keeping us going, and two human beings— I screech to a halt.

Two anomalies. A pang of nervousness shoots through me. I don't like change. I've learned in my brief life that change never bodes well. I feel their matter, their atoms. One is female, the other male, young, mid-twenties. Not _Him_, then. Strangers. I go through my options and decide that playing dead is my best one.

"—at _is_ it?" the male asks. I can feel his nervous energy standing five feet away my machine.

"_He_. _He_ is a person. A victim. Now hurry up before someone notices," the female whispers back, urgent.

Hurry up and do what? I fight to keep my face neutral, but anxiousness is starting to get to me. And fear. Why are they here? What are they going to do?

"You told me we were freeing lab animals. Like rats and guinea pigs," the male hisses. He sits down in one of the five chairs, at one of the three desks, and starts up one of the two computers.

"We are," the female responds. She's walking closer and closer to the tank. She's only a foot away. Her energy is intense, vibrant, rebellious... _purple?_ "We're freeing everyone, and everything, in this god-forsaken lab." Her hand touches the glass of the tank. Her atoms warm the glass, exciting the molecules. "When we're through, we'll have all the evidence we need to shut down Dalv Corp for good, and put Masters behind bars."

Free? Dalv Corp? Guinea Pigs? Masters? None of these words mean anything to me. Without meaning to, I frown in puzzled confusion. Realizing my mistake a half second too late, I force my face blank again before they can notice.

The male freezes. His energy turns flighty and wobbly. It's tangy. "...Did it just move?" Tangy asks.

Pause. Silence. Purple removes her hand from the tank. "_He_," Purple corrects. She walks around until she's directly in front of me. I can feel her critical gaze. The urge to open my eyes and see if she looks anything like she feels nearly overwhelms me. "Can you hear me?" Purple asks gently. "Are you awake?"

"We don't even know if it's sentient," Tangy mumbles.

"Shut up and get him out," Purple snaps.

Tangy goes back to the computer, typing away, doing something that I know is going to directly affect me pretty soon.

Playing dead is doing me no good. These people aren't about to leave. I chance a peek and open my eyes. Outside my world is painted in neon green, colored by the layers of ectoplasm swimming around my face. I recognize the dark shape with short black hair, standing directly in front of me, as Purple. She's looking back at Tangy, a boy with dark skin and a checkered shirt, who is staring back at me with badly concealed terror.

"Sam...It's_—He's—_ looking at me," Tangy says, and points at me accusingly.

Purple— _Sam_— whips her head back around. She stumbles backwards a few steps, a flicker of alarm crossing her face, before awe replaces it and she walks back up to the glass. Both her palms press against it. "Hey, there," she says. Her voice, muffled through the pane, is the calmest thing I've ever heard. "It'll be okay. We're going to free you. Do you understand? We're gonna get you out of here."


	15. Earworm

**Earworm**

* * *

—You're being controlled—

—He's not holding the staff anymore, _you_ are—

_Thump._

—What's your name, child?—

_Danny?_

Phantom. _NO. _My name is—

—WRONG! You are a ghost. A ghost has no name.—

—I am a ghost. I have no name?—

—You'd make a _useful_ little minion—

—I have no friends—

—_Fight it_, Danny—

_Danny?_

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

What is that noise? It reminds me of—

—A train's pistons pumping, propelling through the night sky; a treasure trove of glinting rubies, gold bars, and diamond rings upon each of my fingers. The heavy weight of a crown upon my head—

I reach for it, but my arms are unresponsive. _I can't move._ I stare blindly in front of me and see nothing but red. It's haze is a wet blanket, ever present, cold, unnatural, all laugh explodes from behind me and my insides freeze.

It's happening again. He's _here_. How? _How can he be here?_

_—_What? You thought you got away? From _me_? You thought your friends came to save you? HA! WRONG! They're dead. Don't you remember? You should. After all, _you_ killed them—

_"NO!" _I scream, but only a choked gasp escapes. The red haze dissolves into my bedroom ceiling. His piercing laugh dims. I pant, disoriented, and try to claw at my ears to rip his laugh right out, but my arms are pinned. An involuntary whimper gets drawn from me before I realize I'm entangled in my own sheets. Bile rises in my throat. I can't breathe. I _hate_ not being able to move. I _can't_— In a fit of panic I wrestle my way out, nearly ripping my sheets in my haste.

It's only when I'm free that I calm down and remember that I'm fine. The staff was broken.

I glance at my clock. 3:24pm. My head drops onto my sweat-drenched pillow and I let out a long shaky breath. My heart thumps, my eardrums roar with the sound of my frantic blood.

_Thump. Thump._

I flop my head to the side and look at my door, which rattles under the force of someone's knocking.

"Danny?" Sam's voice. "I'm coming in, ok?"

Not ok. "Uh... hang on!" My voice is shot, hoarse. "Just a second."

I sit up and run my hands across my face and neck, wiping away the beads of sweat. I try and comb my hair with my fingers while simultaneously swinging my legs over the edge of my bed and searching around for a shirt with my feet. I hook my toes into a rumpled grey crewneck sweatshirt and kick it up into the air, grab it, shove it on while stumbling over to the door, and yank it open.

Sam's huge lilac eyes stare up at me. "Hey," she says softly. Her gaze wanders past my shoulder. "...Were you asleep or something?"

I glance back. My bedding is strewn apart, sheets kicked off the end into a heap on the carpet. No point in lying. I shrug. "Took a nap."

A look of guilt flickers across her face. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," I say, too quickly. "I was already awake."

Sam blinks, then frowns and pushes her way past me into my room, her eyes scanning the floor for something. "You lose your phone?"

"What?" I close my door with the back of my heel.

Sam unhooks her backpack and throws it down, before plopping decisively onto my bed like she's about to pitch a tent and camp out there. "Tucker and I have been texting you for the past two days." She kicks her boots off, tucks her feet underneath her, and glares at me.

I know. I've been ignoring her. I've spent the last two days in my room trying to figure out what's real. My gaze focuses on my window, to the tree outside. Anything to avoid looking her in the eye. The wounded part of me wants her to leave before she figures out how messed up Freakshow left me, but now that she's infiltrated my room I know she's here to stay.

"Sorry," I mutter.

"You missed school again," Sam continues. "I brought you notes."

"Migraine."

Sam's brows scrunch together in worry. Her lip twitches, before she sniffs, looks around the room, and sighs. Her fingers lace together in her lap. I scour all these little movements for something out of place, something un-Sam-like that'll prove she's not real, but I don't find any.

"You have a migraine?" Sam asks gently.

I play with the hem of my sweatshirt. It's unraveling around the cuff. "It was the only excuse I could think of when my mom asked me what was wrong."

Out of the corner of my eye Sam slumps. "We're worried. What happened, with Freakshow, it was… You can't shut us out, Danny. You need to talk about it. You can't just lock yourself away and pretend it didn't happen."

A flare of hot anger sears through me. "I'm _not _pretending it didn't happen," I snap. I suck in a sharp breath. I've never sounded like that before. All defensive and raw. Who is that? This terrified person that huddles in their bed all day… that can't be _me_. So who is it? My hands unbiddingly rake through my hair, into my scalp. Did some part of Freakshow linger? Which thoughts were his? Which are mine? I feel gross. A little belatedly, I realize that I've been staring blankly at the floor for several minutes. I let out a long breath and try to think about something else. My gaze finds Sam's spider backpack. I count the furry legs, even though I know there's eight. "Sorry," I say, again.

"How are you doing?" Sam asks.

"Fine," I say, automatically.

Sam gets up off the bed and walks towards me. She tilts her head, her bangs falling across her pale forehead. Swiftly, she grabs both my arms at my wrists. Her grip is tight.

My back hits the wall as that red haze invades my vision. His laugh spirals through me. —_HA! _What is that? Is that _free will?_ How _pathetic_. Do you even remember why you're fighting me?—

_Get out of my head, get out of me_— I gasp as the red wavers and my room snaps back. Sam's standing above me, her palms held up like there's a gun pointed at her. I'm on the floor.

Sam drops her arms to her side. She's made her point. "Yeah, _sure_ you are," she whispers.

I struggle to catch my breath, rubbing my wrists to try and rid myself of the feeling of shackles. I can't even let a friend touch me without flinching. I really _am_ pathetic.

"It's not your fault," Sam says. "Danny? Look at me."

I crack one eye open.

Sam crouches down across from me, looking just as lost and uncertain as I feel. "None of it was your fault, okay? That monster made you do it. I can't even imagine..." she trails off.

"I'm fine," I croak.

"No you're not," Sam states, loudly. "Stop saying that."

I lean back against the wall, not even bothering to try and get my feet underneath me. Her glare pisses me off. She just barges in here and picks open all my scabs? Calls me out on my bullshit? Just comes in here and knocks me to the ground after I've spent two whole days trying to patch myself up? "What?" I growl. "What else is there to talk about? What do you want me to say?"

"Anything other than 'I'm fine'," Sam grates.

"Fine. _Fine," _I snap."How about this? How about that I've been pulling my hair out trying to get his laugh from my head? That I can't tell which memories are fake? It's like he was this disease in my head and now every cell in me is somehow dirty because he.. he _forced_ me to do things I didn't want to do, and he made me _like_ it. Made me _want_ to do it."

Sam clicks her mouth shut and stills as I rant.

"I can't sleep under a blanket without feeling like I'm suffocating or having a nightmare. I can feel the weight of that stupid gold crown and the rings on all my fingers and hear the train…"

"I thought you said it was all a blur," Sam pokes.

I draw a hand down my face, my fingertips pressing into my eyelids. Blue dots erupt behind my eyes. "It's coming back, bit by bit."

Sam's gaze softens. "It's done. Freakshow's gone and the staff was destroyed. It's over."

It's over. So why doesn't it feel over? "I thought you and Tucker were dead." My voice hitches, cracks. "I thought... He said, told me… I knew... I _remembered_ murdering you?"

"That never happened," Sam insists with a shake of her head. "You caught me. You—"

"I heard the sound of your head hitting the cement," I interrupt, "It sounded like an egg cracking. Your blood was everywhere. Pooled under your head, in your hair. Your neck was bent at a weird angle."

"He implanted that memory, Danny. He lied," Sam says shakily, eyes wide. "It wasn't real."

"What's real, then? What's fake?" I ask, voice high-pitched and hysterical. "That's what I've been trying to sort out."

"_I'm_ real," Sam insists.

"Really?" I shoot back.

Sam falls back on her heels. She stares at me for a moment, stumped. It's a paradox. For all I know she's dead and I'm a murderer still under Freakshow's command. My memory has been compromised. She plops down fully onto the carpet and sits cross-legged. "You're right," she murmurs. "Even if I told you a bunch of secrets that only you and I would know, who's to say I'm not just an extension of your own mind?"

I eye her critically to see if that's the case.

She scoots closer until she's sitting next to me, her back up against the wall where the molding of my door meets the drywall. It can't be very comfortable, but she merely hums, then drops her head onto my shoulder. It's heavy. I can feel her breath against my forearm and her radiating body heat; I smell the lavender scent of her shampoo. She feels convincingly real.

"Guess you're just gonna have to trust me when I say I'm real," Sam says cheekily after a moment.

I pause and consider that. Between a reality where Sam's dead and I killed her, and one where she's alive, I'd have to pick the latter. My head tilts to rests atop hers. "Okay," I breathe.


End file.
